


you're gonna go far, kid.

by adverbialstarlight



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Eventual Romance, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, M/M, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Pansexual Lance (Voltron), and the lion talismans are like the throne of glass wyrd keys, and there's a lil bit of description of violence, because i say fuck way too many times, but don't expect this to be a full on klance fic there's an actual story, expect some miraculous ladybug type shit, rating switched from teen to matutre, this is my first voltron au be kind
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-03-08 12:26:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 56,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13458231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adverbialstarlight/pseuds/adverbialstarlight
Summary: Keith's world is one where some people possess superhuman powers, called prodigies. He is not one of them. But he does know that interacting with any of them—especially with Voltron, a new team of super-vigilante prodigies trying to fight the city's crime—will only bring trouble. After a man being controlled by an ill-intending "villain" nearly kills Keith, claiming he possesses a dangerous artifact, though, things don't exactly go as planned.





	1. Chapter 1

It was not his own desire to buy a Panic! At The Disco t-shirt that made Keith go into the wretched Hot Topic, but his brother Shiro's, and the multitudinous amount of Hot Cash brought by Shiro’s best friend/not-so-secret boyfriend, Matt.

“Come on, Keith,” Matt had whined. “It won’t be that awful just coming along. And there’s no way that I’m going to let four $25 off coupons fly past me. Who knows, maybe I’ll let you get yourself a nice bracelet that says Iron Maiden or whatever bands you listen to nowadays.” Keith had rolled his eyes but agreed to go anyway, if only because he didn’t have anything else to do.

Since he was a little kid, Keith found it excruciatingly difficult to connect to other people, especially those that were his age, and because of it, did not have many friends. Even the small half friendship with Matt’s younger sibling, Pidge, felt more like a forced acquaintance than anything. That meant that Keith was the obnoxious little brother that followed around the cool and popular older sibling, Shiro, and the best friend, Matt.

Whenever Keith tried to apologize for third wheeling, they tried to assure him that they didn’t mind, but there’s only a certain amount of sibling-trailing that one can do without said sibling and his boyfriend getting deeply annoyed. Keith assumed they reached that point a while ago.

Shiro and Matt just pitied him-- and good at pretending that he didn’t annoy the shit out of them.Which is why Keith was still a bit surprised that Matt had invited him to come along.

Probably just to add to the purchase total.

He fidgeted with the coin hanging around his neck subconsciously, and stared down at the Hot Cash thar Matt entrusted him with when they arrived at the mall, then up at the two men who had wandered a bit ahead of him. Keith kept at the pace he was going, even if it was significantly slower than his normal speed. They deserved to have at least some time without him being right there considering how often they felt like they had to invite the teen along.

Besides, Hot Topic wasn’t exactly his favorite store in the world. The music was loud, the merchandise was all crammed close together, and there was always a lot of people. Keith tried not to mind it too much, he really did, but something about being in the store half in a rack of boy band merch, half in the way of some edgy thirteen year old girl, and unable to really move gave him irrational anxiety. More than the usual amount.

Hot Topic wasn't the only store though, the experience was the same in almost every store Keith walked into-- minus the emo middle schoolers and Five Seconds of Summer t-shirts.

Shiro stopped and turned around to look at Keith who had dropped back about ten feet now. He was definitely not stalling. “Keith?” he asked, concern in his voice.

Keith shot him a look but quickened his pace, internally cringing as they approached the store. And then scowled. Why the hell was he afraid of going into a stupid store he’d gone into a hundred times before? Pathetic.  
He stormed inside an entire five steps ahead of Matt and Shiro.

As they entered the store, the smell of rubber assaulted Keith’s nose. Why did it always smell like the tire section of Costco in here, he wondered in distaste.  
The employee standing near the door, a man who in his early twenties wearing a Twenty One Pilots beanie and had snakebite piercings, barely even glanced up at them as he recited his greeting. Once he was finished, the man unapologetically went back to texting on his phone again.

Matt grinned, relieved Keith of Hot Cash Duty, and moments later he and Shiro disappeared into the far right corner of the tiny store. 

Not wanting to just stand there awkwardly, Keith turned and stared at the closest shelf. When he saw what it was, he didn't try to hide his eye roll. Anime.

Keith had absolutely nothing against anime. Fullmetal Alchemist was his manga of choice growing up. But badly designed t-shirts and water bottles for generic popular anime he never bothered watching and an excessive amount of Yuri!!! On Ice underwear is where he drew the line. He picked up a Sword Art Online button pin and stared at it like Sherlock Holmes himself, trying to figure out how such a great concept could turn out as terrible so awful.  
With another long sigh, Keith tossed the pin back in the tub and wandered over to the band t-shirt walls in the back of the store.

Matt clearly was not devoted enough to know that Hot Topic does not print Iron Maiden bracelets, but Keith did find himself picking up another Iron Maiden shirt that he did not own yet. The man was too busy waving around a Supernatural mug in Shiro's neutral but faintly amused face to notice when Keith dropped his shirt on top of the pile growing in a long, flimsy basket Shiro somehow acquired.

Keith snorted and wandered in a new direction, trying not to look as uncomfortable as he felt. There was at least fifteen people in the store, and he was getting a bit claustrophobic. The employees’ lacking taste in music didn't do much either.

He was beginning to hope he could just slip out and sit outside the store for a bit, but when he looked at the front door, it was blocked by a group of kids no more than fifteen years old, all chattering loudly and leaving no room for escape. Part of Keith wanted to just walk up and shove them out of the way and leave, but he quieted that voice and instead went to hide by the wall of jeans.

Because he was the universe’s favorite insignificant carbon based lifeform to torture, a new trio of shoppers boisterously entered the store. Keith huffed in annoyance. As if there wasn’t enough noise in here already. He tried not to glare too much as the most sprightly of the three jumped up and down like it was Christmas, even saying hello to the dedicated employee at the door.  
It was only moments before the boy appeared right next to Keith, looking over the Harry Potter merchandise, still boiling over with so much energy Keith could feel the shelf in front of him shaking.

The boy flicked his head to the side obnoxiously, sweeping his light brown hair to the side, and held up a Gryffindor hair scrunchie.

“Dude, you’re a Hufflepuff,” the taller of his companions said.  
“And your hair isn’t even long enough to be tied up,” added the other with a snort.

Keith tried to shrink back into the mountain of denim even further when he recognized them as Pidge. The same Pidge who looked nearly identical to their brother Matt. 

It wasn't Pidge that mads Keith want to climb into Matt's sack of overpriced items and never come out again, but running into them here was like seeing your kindergarten teacher at Walmart with your mom.

Pidge and the brown haired boy– who had impossibly bright blue eyes, holy shit Keith swore it was like he came straight out of a poorly written fanfiction about Andy Biersack– began to bicker about something, and Keith slid his attention back to awkwardly staring at a sign for buy-two-get-another-half-off jeans.

There was a noise that sounded an awful lot like a screeching bird, and then something hit Keith in the side. Abruptly, he turned around with murder in his eyes. Instead of the obnoxious preteen girl he was expecting, though, Keith found himself staring directly at of none other than Pidge's now terrified looking companion.

His expression did not change as the boy jumped back and began rambling off apologies that Keith couldn't really understand or care about. Though still irritated, he found the stream of remorse slightly charming, even if it was a bit unnecessary. Most people side checked other people and didn't acknowledge it whatsoever. Another bullet on Keith's list of Reasons Why Hot Topic Sucks.  
Before he could stop it from spilling out of his mouth, Keith said, “Alright I get it you are deeply, unfathomably sorry. I'll take your first born child or whatever if it means that you'll just shut up.”

This definitely stopped him, and the stranger stared at Keith's stoic expression before blinking and tilting his head a bit. “Was… was that a joke?” he said. Keith said nothing, taking in his unease with amusement.  
Luckily, Mr. Fanfiction-Blue-Eyes was saved from his suffering when Pidge turned, noticing Keith for the first time. They looked reasonably surprised to see him.

“Oh hey Keith. What are you doing here? I thought you never come to Hot Topic during busy hours,” they said. Their friend, no longer squirming away from him, raised an eyebrow at Keith, who in return gave him what he thought was his most intimidating looking scowl.

Pidge looked between the two in amusement, though Keith couldn't think if a single reason why. He rolled his eyes. “I don't know, ask your stupid brother over there, he's the one who dragged us here.” Their gaze swept over to where Keith was gesturing, and when they caught Matt, still dumping items into his nearly full basket, their expression mirrored Keith's.

“If he decides to use my room to store all this useless shit like he did last time, I'm moving in with you and Shiro,” Pidge grumbled.

Pidge's friend coughed, and Keith looked back to him. Their noses were barely four inches apart, and he was reminded how uncomfortably close the two were still standing. Keith didn't bother with subtlety when he took a large step backwards.

“Oh, uh yeah. Lance, that's Shiro's brother Keith. You remember Shiro right? Keith, this is my classmate, Lance. Unfortunately he is also one of my idiot friends.” They gestured half heartedly towards the brown haired boy. Keith was unable to even process what Pidge had said when Lance bowed dramatically before him with a dazzling smile that made Keith want to kick him in the shin.  
Before that could happen though, Keith noticed Shiro and Matt finally getting into the short line to check out. “If Matt can't pay your water and electric bill this month, it's because he absolutely needed $500 worth of overpriced t-shirts and other shit,” Keith said unenthusiastically as a farewell. With a heavy sigh, he walked over to join them.

When they approached, Keith couldn't help but pity the poor girl with the choppy, bright orange hair at the register, who looked horrified as they dumped Matt's haul onto the small glass counter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Salutations! If you actually managed to get through that, thank you very much. It's taken a bit but I've finally gotten the idea of a Voltron superhero AU into actual words that make sense, and I'm very excited to be writing it. From the way I've outlined it, this won't be the usual superhero AU I have a nice big complex plot waiting to be written in more novely format (hence why this first chapter was kinda ~~extremely~~ dull). Next chapter will really escalate so stick around for that. If not that's cool too I guess. Hope you didn't hate this feedback is welcome have a nice day/night/whatever I'm out


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edgy action and shit goes down.

Matt was still giggling when they finally left the store. Both the other customers and employees were so fed up that another register was opened for the other customers when ten minutes after they came up to the register, Matt still had things to ring up.  
  
Shiro usually would never allow someone to use him as their luggage camel, but since it was Matt, he carried three bags on his prosthetic arm like a camel, with the other around Matt’s neck, and was smiling.  
  
Keith felt like he was intruding on a moment again watching them. Dammit. He didn't want to care, probably looked like it, too, but Keith still felt guilty every time he hung out with Shiro and Matt. They'd deny they were being lovey dovey though, as they were still trying to pull the just childhood friends card.  
  
Without even bothering to tell them, Keith stopped and ducked into the nearest store. Brookstone. Could be worse.  
  
He opened the door and took in the warmer lighting and the many but widely dispersed customers, most of them middle aged women, and shrugged. It was better than Hot Topic. Keith sunk into one if the massage chairs on display. He would just hang here for a few minutes and then catch up to Shiro and Matt.  
  
A moment after he had closed his eyes and relaxed into the chair, the door opened and slammed shut, and a loud pair of feet stomped into the store. It was a tall man maybe around fifty, who was wearing a large black trenchcoat and hiking boots. He did not appear to be with anyone. Keith probably would’ve thought it was a bit weird to see someone like that in here given the target demographic of the store, but then again he was also sitting here in one of their godly massage chairs.  
  
He cracked open an eye, feeling the man's stare on him. It unnerved him a bit but somehow Keith kept his face blank, even checking his phone once, until he finally looked away. When he did, Keith felt a shudder down his spine. A wave of circumspect anxiety in the pit of his stomach told him there was something off about that man.  
  
Subtly, Keith continued to watch the man from the corner of his eye, and texted Shiro in case they noticed he wasn’t there. Which was unlikely, but it didn’t hurt to notify him just in case. The man in the trenchcoat was prowling around like a goddamn lion, and there was a few others were watching him now too.  
  
He looked away, but in his peripheral vision, Keith could have sworn that a crate on the floor had just moved slightly when he moved his hand. A blue stained mason jar lifted into the air and shattered into several sharp shards on the floor, startling two ladies looking at scented candles a few feet away. Yeah, he was definitely seeing things.  
  
It was probably just someone he couldn’t see or his insomniac brain playing tricks on his eyes. It never occurred to him that this man was one of those strange prodigies Matt had always been obsessed with; people like the popular team of “superheroes” with supernatural abilities who had appeared on the city skyline only about four years before Keith was born. There was quite a few small scale prodigies like Matt in the city, but very few were powerful and flashy enough to be noticed.  
  
It seemed that his delusion spread as the two women stood frozen in their place, staring wide eyed as random objects began to levitate and move around in the air. Another man with a baby strapped to his chest and looking at a grill furrowed his eyebrows when the grill began to roll towards him.  
  
When it had finally been noticed by everyone in the store, all the doors all slammed shut firmly, and the man in the dark coat stepped forward.  
  
His sneer reminded Keith of a cartoonist comic book villain, and the ominous golden gleam around his unfocused eyes made him look possessed. The man lifted a hand, and a culinary knife flew into his hand.  
Without realizing it, Keith's mouth fell open in awe and partial confusion. Definitely a the super prodigy. Telekinesis, he recalled Matt calling this.  
  
Before anything else could happen, the broken shards of glass reanimated and flew right up to Keith's face like a swarm of bees. It took him by surprise. What had he done? His eyes squinted slightly and then tried to step back, but found several pieces of furniture blockading the area around him. Keith crossed his arms, trying to seem void of emotion despite the sharp glass pointed at his eyeballs and the man with supernatural abilities storming up to him.  
  
It was like everyone was snapped out of a daze, and they all huddled in the far corner, silently watching but too afraid to move, as if one twitch of a muscle would draw the man's attention. The telekinetic stepped up towards Keith, much too close for comfort, and he could feel the man's ragged breaths on his face. Disgusting. Keith turned his face to the side slightly.  
  
“Where is it?” the man said, both monotonous and threateningly. “Give me the talisman or you’re all dead,” he growled. “I know you have it so hand it over, or you shall perish.”  
  
Keith’s mind took a moment to process the demand. When he finally did, all that came out was, “The what.”  
  
The man grabbed the front of Keith's shirt and he fought the urge to gag at the stench of his breath. “Don’t play dumb with me, boy!”  
  
Forgetting the table behind him, Keith jerked back. “Look, I don’t know what this stupid talisman is or why you care about it so damn much, but I don’t have it so you can just--”  
  
With a sweep of the telekinetic’s hand, several shards of blue glass dug into Keith’s skin, and he fell backwards, grimacing. Knowing that it was useless to try to remove them, Keith ignored the pain and blood beginning to surface on his cheek and met the smirking man’s yellow gaze again. “Leave me alone,” he said lowly.  
  
Instead of replying, he smashed another jar into thousands of pieces on the wall only inches away from the group in the corner. Some sort of martyr complex that Keith had no idea was there kicked in, and when the telekinetic turned his sadistic smirk to them, he lifted his leg quickly and kicked the man in the groin as hard as he could. The shards seemed to waver a moment in the air, and Keith took it to scuttle out of the way before they could be launched into his face.  
  
The telekinetic stumbled backwards.  
  
It was hard to tell who was more surprised by the maneuver, Keith looked as stunned as the man whose crotch had received the hard toe of the teen’s boot. He set a hard glare on Keith, but he didn't flinch or look away.  
  
He’d always been one to stand up for himself if he was harassed, but never the person who took risks and made himself purposefully noticeable for other people. So why had he done it now? Perhaps immense danger can bring out a new layer to people; adrenaline lets latent courage surface from the person least expected to do anything, and then that person finds themself protect forty random people in a store who they do not know in whatever way that they can.  
  
A ceramic vase was swept to the floor, and the telekinetic grouped then into another spear, hurling them towards Keith with terrifying speed. A woman shrieked, but Keith’s quick reflexes saved him once again. The pieces stuck themselves into the wood of the chair that he’d used as a makeshift shield, and he let out a sigh.  
  
The knuckles of his hands became paler than usual as Keith held onto the chair legs in attempt to stop the shaking in his hands. He wasn't sure if any shoppers outside were looking into the window, if any had even taken notice.  
  
Keith risked a glance out. There was one or two, but it wasn't enough. When he managed to catch the eye of a fair haired girl who was maybe fourteen years old sitting by the fountain with two friends, Keith mouthed as clearly as he could, “Leave, now. Danger.”  
  
The girl’s eyes widened, then she turned back to her friends, anxiety written across her face as she dragged them towards a security officer. Before Keith could see what happened next though, a wine bottle opener flew straight into his chest. Gasping for air, his attention snapped away from the window. The golden fog over the man’s eyes gleamed, and the man jerked upwards like a marionette at the hands of a novice puppeteer. His footsteps were stiff as he approached, expression blank, and panic began to seep past Keith’s adrenaline-produced dauntlessness.  
  
Like the newly brave person that he was, Keith darted behind a sofa as quickly as he could with the air still knocked from his lungs, hoping it was enough if a barricade until he could breathe again. He looked around frantically for something less pathetic to defend himself with than a wooden chair, only to find a long umbrella.  
  
He held it up like a sword, pointing it at the telekinetic and still hiding behind his sofa-shield. Keith nearly laughed out loud when a set of knives on the wall display made a delicate ring around his neck, too close for him to swipe them away. Of course that would happen. The man himself didn't have to come over here, just direct objects to.  
What a stupid, impulsive idea it was to get involved. How the hell was a random, reckless, undefended eighteen year old with just some basic knowledge about self defense and a striped umbrella supposed to go up against this ginormous, dangerous guy with fucking superpowers?  
  
Keith was about to just risk getting his throat cut open and try to ram the umbrella into the guy’s eyeball like a javelin when he heard the small whimper of a child from the corner. His jaw clenched harder as he thought about the other terrified young kids in here, the baby strapped to that man's life who was probably only a few months old, all trapped in this store because their families had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.  
  
There was a noticeable crowd shouting from outside, now, and a few people inside began to tap on the glass too. Another knife flew from its display, pointing itself at a little girl who’d wandered towards the glass window. The people in the corner screamed again, and her mother fell forwards sobbing as it focused directly at the top of her spine. The girl froze in her place, and the pounding on the doors became pugnacious.  
  
Keith stopped and observed the scene, and noticed when the knives faltered from their precise positions as the new one focused itself on the girl. When they were fixed, the door became slightly more moveable. And then the knife at the girl’s back dropped for an entire half second when that was fixed. Keith felt like slamming his head into one of the knives or screaming out loud. Why hadn’t he noticed it before?  
  
Matt’s words from their first superhero discussion came back to him. “There has a limit somewhere in their powers, though. These guys aren’t indestructible, but you have to find their weak point.” Keith has found his weak spot. The telekinetic couldn’t control that many things at once without his hold weakening or breaking completely.  
  
An idiotic plan formed in Keith's mind, and it surprised him a bit. It was nothing brilliant and ingenious like what Shiro, Matt, or Pidge might have thought of, but it was the best thing he had right now.  
  
He stretched out as far as he could from his collar of daggers, and discreetly tapped the shoulder of a woman shielding what looked to be her two daughters. She was sitting roughly half way between Keith and the other shoppers. Though she was shaking, the woman looked fierce, staring ahead as if daring the man to try anything on them. She looked at him from the corner of her eye but kept her face blank.  
  
“There should be a door over there, around the corner of the bookshelves,” he said lowly, barely moving his lips. She understood immediately, and her head dipped a bit in a nod. “I’m going to do something incredibly stupid, and it might not work, but while that’s going on, try to get everyone out of here.”  
  
The woman glanced at her daughters again and hesitated, but then nodded again. She seemed calmer than most of the people, most of them were the farthest back away from the telekinetic as they could get, staring at nothing in shock or crying. Her face took on the grievous shadow of a professional. As if reading his thoughts, she pulled out a small booklet from her coat, and Keith squinted at the police badge discreetly angled towards him.  
  
Officer Michelle Flynn shoved it back in her pocket as quickly as she’d pulled it out, and her eyes met Keith’s. She looked apologetically to him then at her younger daughter.  
  
Keith nodded in understanding and turned away. He took in a deep breath, and stood. The telekinetic stood by the window, temporarily distracted by taunting the police outside the shop. The people who could had evacuated. Good. Hoping that this moronic plan would work, Keith picked up a thick scented candle and, wielding his umbrella like a baseball bat, hit it as hard as he could at the telekinetic’s head.  
  
The force of the candle hitting his exposed head caused him to stumble, losing his hold on the knife pointed at the little girl and enough on the ones around Keith that he ducked out of them. The girl scampered back to the corner with her mother, who was sobbing harder now and clung to her daughter tightly.  
  
The man had no choice but to look at him now. He let out an enraged growl, and moments later the two were engaged in what Keith thought of as an extreme game of dodgeball. The only difference was that there was only two of them in a Brookstone store where one of them had superpowers that allowed him to pick up multiple objects to try to kill the other with instead of only one or two.  
  
Luckily, Keith was not the worst athlete and if he really tried didn't suck too much, and managed to get a few hits to the telekinetic. As that happened, Officer Flynn was moving everyone to the back door. Keith had positioned himself so the telekinetic could not see them.  
  
Keith’s fight was valiant, but nevertheless he got his ass kicked. Frequently.  
  
He knew he had a somewhat higher than average pain tolerance, but as he stood here now panting, scratched and bloody, Keith couldn't fathom how he was still able to stand. There were fresh cuts and bruises everywhere.  
  
Though Keith had the worse of the two, he somehow managed to hit the telekinetic, who was growing more tired as they went on, a few times. Hopefully tired enough to forget about keeping the back door sealed.  
  
But Keith knew that his luck would run out eventually. He just hoped that it would wait until everyone was safely away. Then, he didn't care what would happen. He hit a Bluetooth speaker with his umbrella, which had somehow stayed intact this entire time. It hit the telekinetic straight in the nose.  
  
Unfortunately, Keith's small victory was short lived. A new mason jar, the telekinetic's weapon of choice, shattered in his face. The boy cringed and took a step back, but as the man taunted him, he heard the quiet squeak of a door opening. He let out a small sigh of relief and turned his attention back, but the telekinetic had wasted no time in loading up more armaments.  
  
When the next utensil came flying at him with a strong flare of determination, Keith didn’t have enough time to duck before he was knocked in the head hard with a new flying object that he couldn’t identify. He felt nauseated. Well that was pathetic.  
  
Keith laid there, failing to fight the haze smothering his mind. And then there was someone next to him, leaning down to hover over his pathetic face. The trenchcoat gave away that it was the telekinetic, and Keith spat weakly when his ugly sneer appeared above him.  
  
In his earlier years, the man was probably considered handsome. Now his hair was becoming sparse and grayed, there were surprisingly deep set wrinkles marring his face, and what Keith assumed were once green eyes had taken on the color of vomit from the golden film. A ring of the same repugnant hue sat on his right index finger.  
  
“Would you like to continue denying that you have the talisman now, boy? You can either give it to me, or I will not hesitate to impale your heart and take it from you. It’s your choice, though I’ll be fine with either,” the man said. Keith growled and his grip tightened around the umbrella as the man strolled along like he were a comic book villain delivering his final monologue before he kills the hero. Except Keith wasn’t a hero. Just a dumb teenager who wanted to give his brother some space and ended up in a mall hostage crime. And worse, he was potentially at fault for it happening at all.  
  
He ignored the burning in his limbs, the large gash across his torso, more noticeable than it was before, gushing dark red blood, and closed his eyes. What an unfortunate way to go. The man had beat the shit out of him and traumatized a couple dozen people for life in search of a stupid necklace that he thought Keith had. Except he didn’t.  
  
A low aching feeling of guilt made its way into Keith’s stomach. It was all his fault that this had happened. Somehow he’d drawn this maniac here, and to an extent, he had caused all of this destruction.  
  
Keith frantically searched his mind for something positive. The shoppers were out. Everyone else was safe. Matt and Shiro were not here.  
  
Oh god, Shiro. This was probably as miserable for him as it was for Keith. Though only twenty three years old, Shiro had already spent four years serving in the military for a scholarship at Garrison University, and had only been given leave about nine months ago. It was a nonstop apology for leaving Keith alone for four years that entire week after. While serving, Shiro had lost his right arm, and gotten severe PTSD that still had him up screaming at three in the morning. But Matt was with him, Keith tried to reassure himself, so if he had a panic attack or something else then he would be there.  
  
A new, sharper kitchen knife flew into the telekinetic’s waiting hand, and Keith stared wide eyed. He felt like he should be panicking, he was after all about to die, but it was like he was under water, and everything was going at half its normal speed. Was this how he was supposed to react? How long would it take for him to die, would he have to slowly bleed out from the knife wound first?  
  
As these morose thoughts whirled about, the ring caught Keith’s eye again. What an ugly thing it was. Perhaps whatever had hit his head had given him a mild concussion, because Keith felt a sudden urge to crush it. When his hand shot out, it took the man by surprise, and Keith grabbed his wrist firmly. The knife repositioned itself in the air, and began to streak towards Keith’s chest. He closed his eyes, waiting.  
  
But then it stopped, barely a milimeter away from piercing skin and Keith’s eyes cracked open. The back door that everyone had escaped through was flung open fully, and four figures stood behind the telekinetic. One of them shot out a metallic looking rope that wound itself around the man, and the knife dropped. Keith assumed it was some sort of power nullifying tool, but whatever it was, he was grateful.  
  
He glanced at the group, all of them in variations of spandex and what was probably pleather with half masks over their eyes and looking at him with concern. But before he could really study them, his head rolled back again and everything went black.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowza that was really hard to write. Like I cannot action at all and I stared at the document blankly a lot but it's done! I got a bit over 3k in this which is also surprising. I hope you enjoyed, stick around cos I just finished planning the entire plot and it will be interesting. Have a great day/night/whatever see ya
> 
> P. s. Thanks Larissa for proof reading ily if someone else wants to help and beta read or something that'd be great thanks ok bye


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinda emo inner monologuing towards the end. But also the plot actually begins yay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT I DID NOT THINK IT'D TAKE THIS LONG FOR ME TO FINISH THIS I AM SO SORRY DOES ANYONE EVEN CARE ABOUT THIS ANYMORE??? Yea if you do thanks for reading I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> Also shout out to [thisisaltea](http://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisaltea/pseuds/thisisaltea) for proof reading I really appreciate it. Anyway read on if you wish

“The vigilante team that identifies themselves as Voltron have done it again, saving roughly forty civilians from a violent hostage situation in a mall downtown this morning. Miraculously, only one was injured and was given leave from the hospital a few hours ago. The suspect has been detained and--”  


“Shiro, isn't there something more interesting to watch than the news? Isn't there like a movie playing in some channel or other right now?” Keith said in exasperation, but his brother's attention was entirely on the small screen. He suspected that he hadn't even heard him.  


He was about to open his mouth again when it went to the weather, and finally muted the TV and looked at him. The older man raised an eyebrow. 

“There's freaking superheroes running around the city now, superheroes who saved your sorry ass this morning, might I add, and you want to watch a movie?”  


Keith snorted. He'd hardly call them that. This Voltron had been running around the city for nearly two weeks now, but he didn't think it wasn't anything for them to get excited over; just a few idiots with some agility trying out crime stopping for a few days, who had somehow also gotten a power nullifying rope. Like Wonder Woman, he thought with a snort. Besides, it wasn't like they actually did anything today. Keith had done most of the work, and they lassoed up the guy like a cattle rancher after it was all over.  


he city’s new protectors, okay. And Keith was an alien with furry ears and a tail.  


When he had first woken up, it was in a hospital room. Matt was hovering over him and making weird facial expressions, looking ominous in the awful fluorescent lighting of the hospital. Pidge and Shiro stood off to the side, both snickering when Matt shrieked loudly, screaming like Dr. Frankenstein when the boy had opened his eyes.  


It gave nearly every person working on the floor a heart attack.  


Much to Shiro’s dismay, Keith was able to convince the doctor to let him leave half an hour later. When they walked into the apartment, Keith made a beeline for the couch, unmoving and staring at whatever was on Cartoon Network. When Matt put a bag of cheap 7-11 popcorn in front of him, Keith had eaten two thirds of the bag by the time an episode of Adventure Time had ended. None of them pointed out that despite his blank expression, his hands still shook uncontrollably in his lap.  


The two men eventually gave up trying to get a reaction from him and decided to go to the grocery store. Why, Keith had no idea. Maybe that morning’s events inspired them to buy some cilantro. Whatever, he didn’t really care anyway. His eyes didn’t even move from the TV as they left.  


Maybe an hour later, judging on how many episodes had played since they’d left, Shiro and Matt came back.Stepping inside, Shiro took off his shoes and tossed a bag of Swedish Fish into Keith’s lap, reaching to grab the remote and turn on the news. Though he’d scowled, Keith could tell that he was relieved that he had even gotten a reaction.  


Keith shrugged in response, straightening his back until there was a small pop. “I don't feel like eating anything right now, so you can order your pineapple pizza or whatever abomination you eat when I’m not here.” Without waiting for a reply, he stood and walked to his room.  


“Yeesh, teenagers,” he heard Matt say. Shiro laughed softly.  


Keith didn't even bother to look up as he shut his bedroom door and flopped onto the twin sized bed in the corner. He stared blankly at the design on the comforter, mind unusually quiet. It was only when his eyes began to water and the dark red and white blended into a light pink did Keith remember to blink.  


As a joke for his seventeenth birthday, Shiro and Matt had thought it would be amusing if they got him the My Chemical Romance _Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge_ comforter, and though he had scowled when he opened the gift, the stupid blanket still sat in a bundle at the center of Keith's unmade bed, over a year later.  


Keith sighed in exasperation as he listened to the news report still running quietly from down the hall. “Superheroes my ass,” he scoffed aloud. “They didn't even do anything.” The walls were quiet, as usual. They patiently listen to him speak as he often did, a pathetic habit that Keith picked up when they first moved here four years ago.  


The walls didn’t talk back. Of course they wouldn’t, it was just drywall painted a light gray. But then they did. In the most petulantly childish voice imaginable. 

“Okay, wow. Rude. I'm right here.”  
His eyes flew open, nearly falling off the bed when they landed on the individual perched on the windowsill. 

“What the fu--”  


Abruptly, the person straightened, flailing their arms widely. “Woah man, chill out.” Keith forgot his surprise a moment and snorted as he fell backward, nearly falling out of the window of the sixth floor apartment. Blue eyes narrowed into a glare, but any effect it could have had was nullified by his preposterous outfit.  


It reminded Keith of a Green Arrow cosplay he'd seen at Comic Con once. He couldn't criticize it too much at the time, sporting his own EVA foam armor, but now he raised an eyebrow at the stranger's polyester-spandex bodysuit and converse. A black belt holding two guns that looked like they came straight out of a sci-fi movie hung loosely around his hips, and a quiver of arrows was strapped to his back. The floppy hood attached to his black vest shadowed most of his face, but Keith could see the unmistakable outline of a half face mask framing his eyes.  


He repressed another snicker. Completely and utterly ridiculous.  


Though most of it had been blurry, Keith remembered the “superheroes” who had showed up at the end of the scuffle, very clearly, and the entire city hadn’t been able to shut up about them for the past week. They were impossible to miss. And so Keith knew without a doubt that one of the city’s most popular super vigilantes was standing in his room, mixing up the Rubix cube sitting on his desk.  
What the hell.  


Regardless, when Keith regained his breath, he said, “I’m sorry, who are you?” The incredulous expression he received was priceless.  


“Uh, the name’s Meticulous, the dashing sharpshooter of Voltron. And for the record, we did save you from being killed by that guy, so a bit of gratitude would be nice.” He pouted a bit when Keith didn’t react. “You know, Voltron, the superheroes with the most charming prodigies in the entire galaxy.”  


Keith huffed, snatching away his Rubix cube. “Alright, _Meticulous_ , thank you so, so very much for showing up and tying an old man up with a rope, it must have been such an endeavor for you, I am brimming with gratitude. Get out of my room.”  


The self proclaimed Meticulous hummed, feigning consideration for a moment before leaning back again. “Sorry, Mullet, but I’m afraid that I can’t do that. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named still has a target on your head since he thinks you have the talisman, so Scythe put me on _guard duty_ until it blows over. Can you believe it? The damsel in distress isn’t even cute. ”  


Keith’s void expression morphed into a scowl, and he swatted away Meticulous’ fingers flicking at the top of his hair. What was he, a goddamn cat? “Okay, _first of all_ , I don’t have a mullet. Second, I don’t need a guard to protect me from Voldemort. Tell him and your friend to just leave me alone, because I don’t have your stupid talisman. Why is it that important anyway?” He tried to say it with nonchalance, but his curiosity had been piqued.  


Meticulous shrugged. “I don’t think that I was supposed to tell you this, but whatever. It’s pretty much this super powerful magical power amplifier thing, your standard fantasy book relic. Like the Mortal Cup or a philosopher's stone. Except it doesn’t look like some giant dangerous amulet or whatever. It could be a weird looking coin or a sock or something. Its powers supposedly turn the team into the full, complete Voltron because there’s four talismans that go with the red one. I think there was some fancy foreign name for them. Anyway, individually, they amplify a prodigy’s powers and whatever. They chose their wielder based on personality and whatever. I wasn’t really listening when she was explaining it, but it’s all dangerous and beacony and I guess that guy attacked you because your power’s aura is similar to the red talisman’s or something.”  


“Wait,” Keith interjected. “I don’t have any powers though.” Meticulous opened his mouth, but then Keith continued, “Or the One Ring. Why would I even have it if I’m not even a prodigy?”  


Meticulous was silent a moment, but then shrugged again. “They’ll eventually realize that, I guess, but for now you get to enjoy my company.” Though his face was still covered by the shadows, Keith could see the cocky, flirtatious gleam in his eyes as he grinned. “Try not to miss me too much when I leave.”  


Jesus fucking Christ this guy was annoying.  


It probably should have occurred to Keith that it was still pretty weird to have a random, newly famous prodigy dressed up in a failed Batman cosplay sitting on his window ledge, telling him that if he wasn't there then he would meet a tragic death soon for allegedly possessing some magical talisman that he didn't quite believe existed. Hell, the guy could be some serial killer with some really nicely constructed pathological lies for all he knew. But somehow none of this did. Or at least not as prominently as he'd like to think it would be anyway.  


Instead, Keith rolled his eyes and went back to fiddling with the Rubix cube Meticulous had snatched minutes before. It only took about thirty seconds before he had the entire thing completed. One of the few party tricks that he'd picked up due to Pidge being one of about five people he ever really talked to.  
Meticulous made a startled noise when Keith jumbled up the colored squares again. _Why is he still here again?_  


He made a point to ignore it, but was too late to stop a huff of slight annoyance coming out. He had known the guy for maybe a total of five minutes and he was already getting on his nerves. Fantastic.  


Keith didn’t know how long exactly this would be for, but was certain that however long this would go on, it would not pass by quickly. At least, not with _Meticulous._

* * *

The next day, Keith was feeling inexplicably exhausted. He had no idea why. Usually, he was good running on a low amount of sleep, mostly getting only about five hours a night anyway. But the unnerving sensation that came with having a total stranger sitting there watching him sleep had kept him on edge all night. So much for trying to go to bed at one instead of two.  


He was off work for now though, Shiro had told him that morning that Keith was going to see a movie with Pidge this afternoon. Keith hated when Shiro did things like this, acting like a mother scheduling her son a playdate. He didn't even ask first. He meant well though, and was probably was trying to help Keith out by applying some of the strategies fed to him by his therapist.  


When Keith first met Coran, he seemed a bit too eccentric to be a post-traumatic stress specialist with his bright orange mustache and openness that was not that of every other mental health specialist he'd met, with their professional sympathy and judgmental eyes.  


Pidge had been the one to find him, a recommendation from their girlfriend, Allura. They had become acquainted at Allura's nineteenth birthday party, about a month after Shiro got back.  


Keith hadn’t known Allura very well before she and Pidge began dating, but they knew who each other were. Though they didn't talk much other than an occasional hello to in the hallways, after Pidge told her that Keith was a family friend, Allura had naturally invited Keith and Shiro to the party as well.  


Pidge, though two and a half years younger than them, was at the same academic level as Keith and Allura. They had only met Allura in their senior year of high school, in AP calculus. Allura was chill with Pidge's constant fluidity between female and agender and had been the one to recommend the use of neutral pronouns. It only took until November for the two to finally get together, and they still were to this day.  


There was no lack of affection, and Keith was usually torn between rolling his eyes at their sappiness or frowning because he would probably never get something like what they had. Just building platonic relationships was impossible to do, for hell's sake.  


Even now, in the crowded movie theater, the armrest between Allura and Pidge’s seats was pushed up, and the latter was practically lying in their girlfriend's lap. This left Keith sitting awkwardly to the side holding their popcorn, half listening to whatever Lance was talking about. The other boy had been invited along to make Keith feel less like a third wheel, but Keith didn't think that he was the best choice.  


The moment they sat down next to each other, Lance dedicated his entire being to annoying the ever living shit out of Keith. He poked and prodded at him constantly, and came up with small petty competitions and random comments, usually baiting him to do something stupid. Unfortunately, Keith always seemed to take the bait.  


Lance challenged him to try to drink more of his ICEE in less than thirty seconds, which to Lance’s disbelief, he did, boasted that he could toss more popcorn into his mouth, stealing every piece shamelessly from Keith's bucket instead of his own, and even tried to outsmart him in a game of tic-tac-toe. Of the five games, two were tied, Lance won one game, and Keith won two.  


After begrudgingly announcing Keith, who had won ICEE slurping and tic-tac-toe but refused to take part in popcorn tossing, as winner of their little tournament, Lance sat back into the red seat. There were a few moments of silence, the only sound being the ads playing on the screen and Pidge explaining their latest side project to Allura, and Keith sat there contently.  


But Lance felt the need to fill the silence. “So my sister is turning fourteen this year, and there's this super expensive ass pair of ballet shoes she wants, 'cos she does ballet and whatnot. I accidentally broke my mom's nail file last week, so I just spent five months of savings on her shoes. I don't really mind, but are a pair of shoes worth that much money? I mean…”  


The boy talked on, sometimes jumping to a new subject mid-sentence, and Keith ate his popcorn, half listening, and not bothering to respond.  


Lance felt the need to share everything that flitted through his mind, which seemed to whirl faster than the speed of an alien spaceship. But whether it be about a store filled entirely with different rubber ducks in the middle of the mountains in Colorado that he'd once visited or the tie that one of his professors had worn that way the same color as the carpet in the motel he'd stayed in when he went to regionals for some archery competition, the brunet said it with a high level of enthusiasm and at a speed that seemed unfathomable to Keith. He tried not to show it, but it was really getting on his nerves.  


Keith had always been a bit slow to properly process things when people said them to him, and it was made worse with Lance talking at him so quickly. It was a stark contrast to his adeptness for learning visually and kinetically, and that often put him at a disadvantage in school. For the most part, he was able to hide it, if there was a clear direction he could get a general idea and be fine. Abstract motioning at nothing and jumping from one topic to another in a millisecond, however, was not decipherable.  


This wasn't the first time that this had happened, there had been a fair number of quiet and quick speaking teachers throughout Keith's academic career. But none of the anxiety he'd gotten from worrying about failing a class matched the level of annoyance and frustration he felt right now.  


Sure that at any moment he'd start screaming or crying like the idiot he was, Keith closed his eyes, tried to inhale deeply, and attempted to release the death grip he had on the chair. It was a pointless effort, his fingers had practically cemented themselves there now. _Pathetic_ , he thought., _Absolutely pathetic_. It only took five minutes and one fucking guy enthusiastic to share what was on his mind for Keith's carefully built calm to be unwound and leave him completely overwhelmed.  


_Be quiet, be quiet, just be fucking quiet_ , he thought angrily and glowered. _I will dump my entire fucking soda on you I swear to god._ Unfortunately, Lance continued talking, and Keith huffed again. All silent pleas for him to stop for just a minute went unacknowledged, why would Keith think they'd be heard anyway, they lived in a world where superheroes existed, but mind reading was far too cliche for the most cliche superheroes. Like a certain obnoxious superhero who went by the alias Meticulous.  


Thinking about the vigilante only soured Keith's mood even more. Idiots. He was surrounded by complete and utter idiots. Why was he even here again? It's not like Pidge, Allura, or Lance would ever even hang out with him voluntarily anyway, so he was just wasting all of their time. It was a pitiful attempt to get Keith out of the apartment, and he had enough if it. What was so wrong with hiding in his room for a few weeks, not getting out of bed at all until there was no more superheroes and supervillains trying to pull him into their dumb plots.  


At the same time though, it would be nice to have friends. Actual friends, not playmates given by older brothers and make you spend time with despite your option on the matter. A friend. Someone who listened to you rant about whatever problems there was at the time, tell you about theirs, and offer each other support and companionship. Not because they have to though, but because they genuinely want to.  


_Yeah, keep dreaming dumb ass. People have to actually like you first._  


The last time that Keith had anything close to an actual friend, he'd been maybe six years old. It was vague after twelve years, but he could remember the boy clearly. Platinum blonde hair and a smile far too mischievous for a seven year old. Unlike most people, the boy had made an attempt to truly befriend Keith. He was the best friend that Keith ever had, and he only stuck around for about a year and a half, before disappearing one day without a trace and never to return.  


Throughout his years, there had been a few acquaintances made, but none that really stuck. He was just Keith, the quiet smart guy from chemistry to get notes from if you were absent. Keith, last resort person in the library that you could sit next to because you won’t look as pathetic. Keith, estranged acquaintance to talk to if you don’t see your friends. Never Keith, first choice friend. Someone to get to know just for the sake of knowing him, with no ulterior motives or because you have to. He wasn’t worthy of that sort of relationship.  


So he stood in his own circle of isolation, keeping everyone at arm's length and never closer, but that was okay. Right? He didn’t need people to have to worry about him, he had Shiro and that was fine. Even if he didn't talk to him nearly as much as they used to, Keith knew that his older brother would always be there. Except would he? What if Shiro finally got some common sense and decided to leave too? He didn't want to think about that either.  


His downward spiral continued but paused when he realized that Lance was still talking. The other boy didn't seem to notice he was on the verge of a mental breakdown and babbled on about some Mexican restaurant with cliff diving gorillas, which for some reason pissed Keith off. Why was this kid so goddamn irritating?  


Keith was ready to throw his cup of sprite in the boy's face so he could have a single moment of quiet when he caught Allura’s eye. Her expression was one of pity and concern. False sympathy. Just what he needed right now.  


She leaned over Pidge, who had brought their DS and was leading Sonic the Hedgehog over a chasm of lava. They didn’t even look up. “Are you alright, Keith?” Allura asked. Her tone reminded Keith of a kindergarten teacher attempting to calm down a child on the first day of school, and he hated it. _She only wants to help_ , Keith told himself. Unable to form actual words, he just nodded.  


The fact that Allura had noticed him was a bit disconcerting. Did he look awful as he felt right now? Oh god, what if there were other people that were watching him too? Lance was being pretty loud, it shouldn't have been a surprise if people were listening in or watching their conversation, but it was terrifying nonetheless. Keith morphed his features into blank nonchalance again, keeping his face void of the crisis happening in his mind. He stared intently at a random spot on the screen, trying to focus instead on whatever ad was playing.  


Then Pidge was elbowing him, and Keith was forced to look at them. He felt a pang of guilt at the look they gave him, and felt his mind screaming at him to break eye contact and look away. Instead, he held it, hoping that they couldn't see his distress too and were just upset that he was very clearly ignoring Lance, who had begun increasing his volume these past few minutes. They tried a smile. “Hey, try not to look like you've got a big stick up your ass, yeah? I know that Lance can be a bit… much, but Shrio wouldn't be very happy if I told him that you looked like a panicked shelter dog during your therapeutic movie so lighten up.”  


“Yeah okay,” Keith said, exasperated. Allura was one thing, but Pidge too? The world was ending. He leaned back in the chair and tried to inhale steadily. When the movie began, Lance would shut up. Right?  


It took a total of two minutes into the movie for Lance to do the complete opposite. He was quiet at first, the only sound was the crinkling candy bar wrapper he was fidgeting with, and Keith had high hopes. But then the commentary began.  


Movies weren’t exactly Keith’s favorite pastime, he leaned much more towards drawing and music, but he didn’t mind one occasionally. He kept up with Marvel movies, would see an adaption of a book he read, and sometimes he’d tag along with Matt and Pidge to see a promising looking animated cartoon made for kids, but that was pretty much it. Most just didn’t really catch his interest so there was no reason to waste money to see it, especially if you could find a shit quality bootleg later on.  


The one that Pidge and Allura had selected, however, actually sounded interesting, and Shiro had paid for his ticket so he figured that it wouldn't kill him to go. Besides, it meant a much needed break from work. Ezor, the closest thing to a friend that he had at the music store he worked at, would probably bombard him with questions about his encounter with Voltron, and he was not in the mood for it. Besides, she had recently gotten together with their manager, Acxa, and he didn’t want to be in the middle of that.  


Today would be his day off, even if forced by Shiro, and nothing could ruin that. He would sit here, _not_ have a complete mental breakdown, and pay attention to the movie. Simple. Of course, _someone_ here had to make that completely impossible.  


Lance was perpetual, making light hearted remarks about every little thing that appeared on screen. At first, Keith tried to ignore it. Just a tap on the shoulder and an observation about a hairstyle or actor, it was easy. He said nothing, which Lance took as a pass to continue talking. A few were admittedly amusing, and in the dark theater Keith allowed himself a small snigger, but it still annoyed the shit out of him.  


“That dude in the top right looks like a stoner,” Lance whisper-shouted now. Keith rolled his eyes and glowered in response.  


“Be quiet,” he snapped, considerably quieter. Lance scrunched up his face and flipped Keith off but turned back to the screen.  


This time he lsted an entire forty seconds.  


“Keith. Psst, Keeiiittthh.”  


“ _What do you want, Lance?_ ”  


It came out a bit sharper and louder than he intended, but he shoved down the small seed of guilt that arose when the boy put his hands up, a surprised and slightly hurt expression clear even in the darkness. Lance mumbled something along the lines of _damn, sorry nevermind then,_ and turned back to the screen.  


Now would be when he should probably apologize, but instead, Keith stayed quiet, staring ferociously at the movie screen. His patience had snapped, there was absolutely no way he would get through the rest of this movie without punching Lance in the face. And then Pidge would get mad at him, Allura would get mad at him, Shiro would give him the disappointed father look, and he just didn’t have the goddamn time for that shit.  


So, not even looking back at any of them, Keith stood up and left without a word.


	4. Chapter 4

When Keith walked into the apartment an hour too early and glowering at the floor, he was not surprised when Shiro looked up from the book he was reading to give him The Look. The look of parental disapproval and disappointment. One that Keith received far too often from his twenty five year old brother.

Shiro closed his book and exhaled a long sigh with the likeness of an exhausted, martyring mother of five. “Keith.”

“Shiro,” the boy replied mockingly. Shiro’s eyes were full of exasperation, Keith could tell, even though he’d been home for a total of five seconds. Usually, Keith would try to at least show some semblance of decency, but he was too tired for politeness today. So instead he rolled his eyes and made a face. Shiro sighed again, ran a hand through his hair and patiently waited for Keith to sit down. After a brief staring contest, he complied.

In the most monotonous voice he could muster and without making eye contact, Keith began to recite the explanation he’d been practicing the entire walk home. It took much longer to think of it than he’d anticipated, but since a two and a half hour walk was preferable over calling Shiro only an hour after he dropped him off, it worked out pretty well.

“Yes, I know, I’m sorry. I swear I tried but you haven’t met Pidge’s friends they’re awful the kid wouldn’t shut up. It’s like he can’t just allow one fucking minute of silence. I know this is supposed to be helping me or whatever, and I tried, I really did, but I can’t do it. I’ll be fine so just leave me be for a bit, yeah?”

Shiro opened his mouth to say something, but a moment later he closed it. He looked sad, and not the _I saw a rabbit get hit by a car this afternoon_ kind of sad, but the helpless sad of someone who was being forced to surrender. Guilt clenched in Keith’s gut, and he looked down and picked at a thread on the purple blanket on top of the couch. He should’ve said something, he knew, but he stayed quiet.

They sat there for several painful seconds, and with each one, Keith felt more and more like crawling into a small hole and disappearing. How did he manage to always make things so difficult? Keith couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from the patterned rug, too afraid that he’d start crying if he looked up. But at the same time, he wasn’t sure if he was able to cry. There was nothing left to feel.

Finally, Shiro just said, “Okay.” That was all. There wasn’t any pushiness in his voice, no anger, or anything. None of the impatient irritation from when Keith had first walked in. All that he got was ‘okay.’ Shiro picked up his book again and Keith sensed that he was dismissed from the conversation.

Still a bit confused, Keith stood up. As he passed Shiro on the way to his room, he spoke again. “If you do want to talk, just know I’m here. I know it’s hard for you but… in case you do. No pressure or anything though. I mean it.”

Keith’s voice cracked when he replied. “Yeah. Thanks.”

* * *

Two weeks passed, and things finally began to quiet down. No more zombie prodigies came to attack Keith, but unfortunately Meticulous stayed. Keith would never admit it, but for the past week he had slightly begun to grow on him. Less of the time he wanted to sucker punch the hero, and instead he grew curious about the finer details about Voltron.

Though it began as asking simple questions like was there a leader of the group (yes, Scythe and some woman he wasn’t allowed to name), and were they just going around helping old ladies cross the street or was there a real purpose to them existing (no, they had to defeat some evil guy named Zarkon, Meticulous didn’t elaborate). Over time, Meticulous seemed to get more comfortable around Keith and started telling him things about the team without Keith having to ask. Scythe’s favorite food for energizing was zucchinis. Flare and the Pigeon had a vegetable garden. Though Keith often rolled his eyes and acted like he didn't really care, Meticulous always had something interesting to say and seeing him every day, despite their constant bickering, Keith felt a little less isolated from the rest of the world, but he'd never tell anyone that.

Keith was also making an effort to bridge the gap between everyone else in his life he cared about. He sat in the living room with Matt and Shiro instead of in his room. He tried to speak up more in conversations at work with Ezor and Acxa. He'd even tried to give Lance and Pidge another chance. Of course they added him to their meme group chat, which Keith was not surprised to find Matt in as well, but it was a sign that they were willing to give him another chance as well.

This was all a good thing, he was moving forward again. But there was still a dark cloud hovering behind Keith's newfound mental stability. He suppressed it, continuing on and telling himself that there was nothing wrong, and though that wouldn't last forever it worked for now which was good enough for Keith.

He had to leave soon to meet Allura at the library to study in a few minutes, but at the moment Keith was sitting on his bed watching random movie bootlegs. Shiro was too cheap to get a Netflix subscription so it was all in potato quality but Keith didn't mind too much.

A grappling hook latched to Keith's window, and moments later Meticulous appeared. He looked as if he'd just attempted to sprint a half marathon.

Keith pretend that he wasn't happy to see the superhero and continued to stare at his computer, unamused. “What.” When Meticulous made a move to climb inside and melodramatically fall onto Keith's bed, the other boy shot him a sour look. “You'd better not be thinking about spreading your special snowflake sweat all over my blankets, or else I'll have to push you out the window again.”

With a chuckle, Meticulous went back to the window, putting his hands up in surrender. Keith had pushed him out once, maybe two days after the incident at the movie theater. Meticulous managed to hook himself to the building and prevent himself from falling to far but still was surprised. He was a bit more cautious after that.

“Perhaps you'd be so kind as to get me some water then? Saving the entire city every day is really kind of dehydrating.” Meticulous turned to Keith, trying to get the boy to meet his eyes.

Keith pretended that he couldn’t hear him. In his peripheral vision, he saw his water bottle sitting on top of a pile of books. Without looking away from the screen, he picked it up and took a slow, long sip. When he snuck a glance at Meticulous, Keith almost let a smirk slip through his false nonchalance.

The superhero was incredulous. He didn’t even say anything, just stared at Keith. It took a moment, but when he was sure that he wouldn’t burst into laughter, Keith turned to Meticulous. “What?”

Like the eloquent man that he was, Meticulous made small incomprehensible squeaks and hand gestures, most being at Keith and the water sitting beside him now. After this went on for a few moments, Keith halfheartedly waved his hand at Meticulous’ face. “I'm sure that the fabric store has plenty of blue spandex-polyester left for you to make you look less stupid. It’ll be fine. Maybe they’ll even a new person to babysit for your mandatory superhero volunteer hours if your purchase is $50 or more.”

Once again, Meticulous opened his mouth, only to close it a moment later. He narrowed his eyes, mouth turning into a childish pout. “Alright, I see how it is. Would it kill you to be polite for once? I am trying to protect you from forces of evil, dude, let me do my job.”

Keith stood up, closing his laptop and walked over to his desk where his coat was lazily draped over the chair. “Okay, that's nice. Bye.” For the second time in the past five minutes, Meticulous was rendered speechless.

“What? Wait a minute, where are you going?” Meticulous jumped off the window, and using his magical enhanced superpowers or whatever, rushed in front of Keith, blocking the door. Keith simply ducked beneath his arm and made his way to the front door, grabbing his school bag as he went. Luckily Shiro and Matt were out at the moment, probably working, and Keith was grateful. How would he explain to them why there was a guy who was probably eighteen at most with super dangerous weapons and the mentality of a seven year old following him around? _Oh hey guys, meet my alledgendly-superhero babysitter, hired by yet another one of the weird superheroes that have been on the news a lot lately and have been running around saving everyone’s asses. Oh, how long has be been hanging around here? Only like two weeks, no big deal._ Yeah, no.

“Library,” Keith said. “Your only job may be to save cats from burning buildings, shooting a fancy gun, and tying up rabid prodigies, but I have an education to finish. If you’d be so kind, would you lock the door? Thanks.” With that, he stepped out and slammed the door in Meticulous’ obnoxious face and made his way to the stairwell.

He could have taken the elevator, it was the sixth floor, but the building was old, meaning the elevator was even slower than their shitty WiFi. Besides, Keith would rather walk six flights of stairs than have to stand awkwardly in an elevator with one of his neighbors for ten minutes.

For the most part, the quick walk to the library was alright. No one was really out, as the afternoon lunch rush had ended, and it was surprisingly warm outside. This did not stop Keith from keeping his jacket on as he walked, but he appreciated the sunlight. When it wanted to be, this city was a nice place to be, a thriving community of culture and life. After living here for a few years, its sights were calming and familiar, and though every day wasn’t the exact same, there was always a constant routine that it followed.

Until Voltron, that is. Keith had always been aware of the darker sides to living around here, had first hand experience on how ugly the people could be, but with ‘superheroes’ around it was all much more obvious. There were less cop cars but more arrests, there would be a large gathering of cheering people in the street as one of the beloved heroes did some noble deed to the community. This wasn’t what bothered Keith though, it was what happened leading up to these brilliant ends.

When Keith was fifteen, his brother took him to New York City. It was Christmas time and Shiro wanted to do something special, and he figured taking a trip to the city would be a fun vacation. What could go wrong with that, right?

It was absolutely chaotic. Several times walking on the sidewalk, Keith was nearly flattened into the pavement by a speeding bicycle or pushed into the busy streets by some pompous businessman holding an espresso. That trip, though it was supposed to be giving him a break for it, made Keith’s anxiety flare up immensely. He’d thought their own city was crowded and busy enough, but this metropolis was on an entirely different level. Though Shiro had profusely apologize to him about it, Keith had just waved it off and just said that he would never go there again in his life and that was that.

Whenever Voltron came swinging by to save everyone, Keith felt like he was standing on a street curb of Manhattan again. Voltron did not have much of a talent for being discreet, and it was astonishing how well they actually kept the city together with such boisterousness. It was becoming common for prodigies to show up with a heightened amount of power and start wreaking havoc these days, and behind them was always Voltron. Though they had a number of fancy gadgets and things, the team made more of a mess trying to chase a bank robber than the Avengers in every single Marvel movie there was. One could always tell that Voltron had come through if lampposts were bent, car windows were shattered, and at least one fire hydrant was flooding the streets. The people that were left never seemed to mind though, they’d cheer as they went by and think about the ramifications later.

Keith never understood this, and whenever he went out, hoped that he wouldn’t be caught in the middle of one of their missions again. He got lucky most of the time, narrowly avoiding their path if destruction, but today wasn't one if those days.

The first sign that they were here came when Keith saw one of Flare’s golden drops of light energy from the corner of his eye. “Oh no,” Keith groaned and he began to walk faster.

Something shoved into Keith hard, and before they could run, he grabbed their wrist and narrowed his eyes. “What the hell this isn't a fucking roller derby moron–” he began, but the sentence was lost when he met their eyes. Just like the man at the mall, there was a yellowish tint over the woman's unfocused irises.

“Keith, run!” someone shouted above, and Keith recognized Meticulous swinging between buildings like Spiderman on his grappling hook. He glanced at the woman again, who smirked at him before turning into a swarm of yellow jackets.

Keith's eyes widened. “Oh, fuck,” he said before breaking off into a run. The horde surged after him, but Keith managed to stay out of their reach, even if only by mere inches. He pulled out the first thing he could find in his bag, his sketchbook, and with a tinge of regret Keith threw it at the yellow jackets. The insects dispersed as it came at them, and Keith saw small black burn holes in the places where some had touched it. “Unbelievable,” Keith muttered, but continued to run.  
The other people in the street had taken notice to what was happening now, and most were cheering from behind their safe hiding spots as Voltron chased after the yellow jackets. Keith was not enjoying it as much. It was a bit hard to when you were the one being pursued by insects that could probably fry you go death by stinging you. That was not the way that Keith wanted to go.

Flare aimed another ball of light, and this time the insects paused. Keith glanced to the man in yellow who was standing on some sort of hoverboard like platform, and was surprised when he gave Keith a kind smile before waving at him to go.

Meticulous always talked about Flare with a smile of admiration and fondness, and though Keith had technically only made brief eye contact with the hero, he could see why. There had been exhaustion in Flare’s eyes, something Keith could see from twenty feet away and there had to be some limitation to their powers, talisman or not, but the man continued to conquer larger spheres of light. And for Keith's sake.

At last, the library came into sight. Keith collapsed onto the bench outside and panted heavily, trying to slow his heart rate. This was the second time that a brainwashed prodigy, under the control of Zarkon's son according to Meticulous, had come and tried to attack Keith. He was glad that she had targeted him instead of one of the other people on the street, but at the same time he was becoming irritated. Couldn't they find another random person to harass with their new and improved powers?

Keith sighed and sat up to go inside the library. It was 2:10 now, but Allura was nowhere in sight. _Odd_ , Keith thought. Allura was never late, and they had planned to meet at 2:00. If she was running late, the girl usually would have said ahead of time. Keith checked his phone. Nothing from her at all.

Anxiety filled Keith’s chest. Had he gotten the day wrong? What if she thought that Keith was an asshole and decided not to show up at all? Perhaps he’d gotten the time wrong, and she was here earlier and waiting for him but then left. She was trying to make a statement and was going out and having lunch with Pidge. She got hit by a car on the way to the library and was in the hospital without her phone. She’d gotten caught up in today’s drama with Voltron as well but was attacked by the pyro-bees.

_Enough_ , Keith thought, and went over to sit at a table. It was probably nothing. Maybe there was traffic or something that she had to do before she left. People are a bit late for things all the time, absolutely nothing happened. Inhaling deeply and scolding his brain for freaking out so quickly over something so small, Keith pulled out his textbook and waited.

He tried to read for a few minutes, but unable to focus Keith shut it and stood up. He went up and down the aisles, occasionally picking up a book. He didn’t have much time for reading these days, but he could still appreciate a well written synopsis or cover. And then a certain book caught his eye.

It was not like the other books in the library. Even from his distance he could tell that much. The book wasn’t sitting on any shelf and just on an empty book cart so, curiosity piqued, Keith walked over and picked it up. Upon closer examination, the cover looked like it was made of leather, its pages were waterworn and slightly yellowed on the sides, and it was like something straight out of a fantasy movie.

As he was about to look inside the book, Keith saw Allura’s platinum hair over the shelves. He went back over to the table he’d claimed and seeing that there was no label on the book and no one else seemed to notice it, Keith put the book in his bag. He stood up and waved slightly to Allura, who was walking purposefully through the room looking for him. She smiled when she saw him and walked over. Her normally pristine bun was sticking out in some places, there was a smudge in her eyeliner, and she looked like she had been running. He closed his textbook and raised an eyebrow at her.

“Are you alright?” Keith asked. He knew that she didn’t always make the top effort to look perfect, after all they were just going over vocab terms, but it was the second uncharacteristic thing today alone.

Allura waved a hand in dismissal. “Yes, of course,” she said in her strong British accent that only furthered her regalness. “I’m so sorry, Keith. There was something that I had to do, and then Voltron…” She trailed off. “Please forgive me.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about it, I haven’t been here that long. And yeah, Voltron always seems to make things about ten times more difficult for every one of the people that they catch.” He didn’t tell her that he had another mild anxiety attack, but even if he was going to it’d be stupid now. Allura was fine, there was just a few minor inconveniences on her way here.

“Great,” Allura said, smiling. “We must use my notecards though, the set I bought has dyed edges and they make physics terms look pleasant for once.” The two of them laughed, and Allura pulled out her notecards, showing off the sides which were dyed a vibrant lime green.

The two spent the next two hours in the library, and Keith found that Allura was actually an excellent study partner. She was probably smart enough and confident enough to teach the class herself, and practically taught Keith the entire unit in those one hundred twenty or so minutes. By the time they were done, he felt ready for the test in two days.

“Thank you so much again, Allura,” Keith mumbled as they walked outside. 

“It's no problem, I am happy to help. If you ever need something, just text me.” Allura pushed the door open for Keith, who probably would have tried to push it open on the wrong side of the door if she hadn't.

They walked in comfortable silence for a few blocks, watching the streets flood with cars eager to get home and the sidewalks with tired people in fancy suits and blue jeans. It was early evening now so more people were out than when Keith left, but with Allura walking with him he was more relaxed. She was good company, especially compared to Lance, who Keith had been not so discreetly avoiding whenever Pidge invited him to things– something much more frequent than just a month ago.

To put it bluntly, Lance was loud and annoying, someone that Keith would never be around voluntarily. When Keith told Pidge as much they had agreed wholeheartedly but still encouraged him to give the boy a chance.

That didn't stop Keith from avoiding Lance like the plague. It was a petty thing he knew, but his attempts never worked anyway despite his valiant efforts. Somehow Lance always popped up. It took every ounce of self control for Keith not to scream and hit a wall whenever that happened.

Somehow Keith must have cursed himself, because a moment later a dark manicured hand rested on top of his head, and Keith suppressed a sigh. “Hey guys, what's up?”

Keith elbowed Lance in the ribs forcefully and moved away. The boy released Keith from his hold, holding his side dramatically. “Woah there, Heracles.”

Allura smiled politely. “Hello, Lance. We were just at the library, what've you been doing in this part of town?”

Lance beamed brightly. “Hunk and I went to some food festival. Not sure where he is at the moment, but it was pretty cool. Lots of free samples and stuff.” He leaned in close and stage whispered, “I think he met someone. She makes really nice cupcakes.”

“Don't feed them lies, Lance. I don't think she was really that into me.” Hunk came up next to them, three large paper bags balanced in his arms.

Lance squeezed his friend's shoulder in assurance and took one of the bags. “Oh come on. She totally was. Shay, her name was I think– holy hell what is in this bag? It weighs like two hundred pounds, man!”

Keith and Allura rolled their eyes. How did Pidge end up being friends with someone so goddamn dramatic? Matt wasn't much better, but Keith didn't think that Pidge would want to surround theirself with other people like her brother.

Feeling a bit awkward standing there, Keith took a bag as well. It was heavier than he expected, but still not bad as Lance made it out to be.

“Does anything other than complaints come out of your mouth?” Keith said, but the words held little heat.

“Lick my fucking kneecap, Keith.”

“Hey now, that is enough,” Allura interjected. She was wearing the same look as Shiro whenever Keith did something childish and impulsive.

Lance sighed dramatically again. “Yes, mom.”

The group continued towards the bookstore, and Keith began to tune out the conversation happening. Hopefully Acxa wouldn't get too much on his back for being a few minutes late. Maybe if Ezor was on shift today she would go easy on him and not put him at the bakery register. Keith shuddered internally. He abhorred managing the register and all it stood for, just being near it seemed to put a scowl on his face.

Just as they were about to turn down the street of the bookstore, a dark red laser flew by Keith's ear. He stumbled backward into Lance.

“You good?” Lance asked in confusion. When he turned in the direction Keith was staring, the boy blanched. “Oh great,” he muttered, sharing a look with Allura and Hunk, both looking equally as exasperated and unsure.

Keith had no idea what was going on. There was a person running towards them, a man maybe Shiro's age with what appeared to be a laser gun where his left forearm should've been. Over his eyes was an all too familiar yellow incandescence.

Allura went quiet, closing her eyes in concentration. A moment later she opened them and turned to Keith solemnly. “You're just going to have to trust me on this, but you're in immense danger. Your energy has drawn attention from Haggar and another has already been sent after you. Go now.”

“I-I can't just leave you guys here though,” Keith protested. 

“Go, there is nothing that you can do here!” Allura shouted firmly. With that, she took off in the opposite direction.

 

Alone, Keith turned to go after her. Before he could move though, the ground quavered and he was thrown backwards into the pavement. The explosion left a cloud of smoke in its wake, and through it Keith saw a long haired figure.

He couldn't see them clearly through the haze, but Keith watched through squinted eyes as the silhouette moved towards him.

“Well, what do we have here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello if you still care about this fic! I can't believe I only took two weeks instead of a month to write a chapter this time. There's only about 4k in this chapter but still. Also, Pidge's superhero alias being Pigeon was a coincidence believe it or not. Pigeons are actually super intelligent animals that can do _math_ (probably better than me,,) so if you were wondering that's why that's there. Shout out to my beta, [thisisaltea](http://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisaltea/pseuds/thisisaltea) and everyone who's cared enough to get past the first sentence of this fic. that's all from me have a nice day/night/whatever


	5. Chapter 5

Keith looked up, eyes wide. "Satan? Am I in hell?"

The person stepped forward and snorted. "No I'm Castiel." They grinned at Keith, but he just stared blankly. Was that some sort of joke or reference...? He didn't understand what was happening. The person recognized his confusion and sighed. "You're no fun, why did I decide to write about you again?"

"Um, what?"

They rolled their eyes and pushed up the large pair of glasses up their nose. "I'm the author of this train wreck!" they said with sarcastic enthusiasm. "Ly, the cause of all your pain and suffering in this universe. They/them pronouns please." Ly grimaced awkwardly and gave him a thumbs up.

Keith's brows furrowed. "Uh... Am I in a book or something then? And shouldn't you be, I don't know, not breaking the fourth wall by telling me this if you're the author? What the hell is going on."

He studied his supposed writer. They were shorter than even Pidge, but their heavily scratched up Doc Martens still added at least two inches to their height. They were a bit intimidating despite being five feet tall at most, mostly from their almost angry looking narrowed eyes– though they probably were not at the moment, Keith knew from firsthand experience– and ripped black jeans. Even their short and messy black hair seemed to help give off the message of "go away".

They looked like the average high school student, someone who probably couldn't even drive a car, let alone control and direct an entire universe. Keith had secretly always been interested in cryptids and outlandish conspiracy theories, but this kid writing everything that was happening was too far fetched.

Ly observed their surroundings with an eyebrow raised, grimacing again watching more debris fall and catch on fire. They turned back to him and pushed their too big glasses back up the bridge of their nose. "Damn, well uh, this'll be fun for you. I can't really say I'm sorry for making this happen 'cause you know, plot development and shit." Ly shrugged and put their hands in their hoodie pockets. "I've completely fucked up the order and details of everything, and you've got a bunch more pain and suffering before I intend to finish this, but yeah. Should be fun. For me and you, but mostly you. Some shits about to go down." They reached up and patted Keith on the shoulder and turned to go towards Voltron. "Damn I thought up some badass costumes," they muttered.

"Wait, why are you here then? Does this even follow whatever this plot of pain and suffering you said you have? " Keith asked, frustrated.

Ly shrugged. "2014-wattpad-style author insert. April fools, motherfucker. Now to the actual chapter I guess. See ya." They disappeared into the smoke and everything faded black.

* * *

When Keith was fourteen, he went to a concert. He’d been to a few before but this one was different. It still smelled like sweat and cigarettes, everyone was wearing tight jeans and dark eye makeup, the music was too loud, merch too expensive, but there was something different about this one. It wasn’t just one of the bands that he listened to casually and didn’t go out of his way to keep up with, but the one that he followed almost religiously and always made sure to purchase the music from instead of illegally downloading torrents. There were posters on his walls and shirts with the logo laying on his closet floor. To say the least, it was not an event that he took flippantly. If Patronuses existed in this world, there was a good chance that going to that concert would be rendered as Keith’s happiest memory.  


The feeling of seeing your favorite band walk onto the stage, only about ten feet away, is a surreal experience that one can only really understand if they’ve experienced it before theirself. Your head gets dizzy and you feel your heartbeat picks up as adrenaline spikes through your veins, and then you think to yourself, _I can’t believe that this is actually happening_. Standing in awe and afraid to blink until you’re walking out of the venue as if it’ll all go away if you look away for a millisecond. That kind of feeling that stays for days, if not weeks, after it’s over.  


When Keith squinted through the smoke and saw the person before him, he felt something similar to when he went to that concert. The spike of adrenaline and surprise and denial. Especially denial. He didn’t realize it, but he gasped. It was a stupid thing to do given his current surroundings, but Keith was never known for making the smartest choice when prompted suddenly without time to think. He fell over coughing and choking from the smoke inhalation, eyes wide.  


It had been years since they’d last seen each other, but Keith was sure of it. Lotor.  


With the small bit of control he still had, Keith forced himself not to run up and poke his old friend to make sure this wasn’t some sort of hallucination. It had to be. The smoke had to be messing with his mind because there was no way that now of all times Lotor was making a reappearance. Keith had accepted, with much pain, that he’d never see Lotor ever again years ago.  


There was an amethyst mask and hood over his face similar to the ones donned by Voltron, but eccentric blue eyes glowed in the shadow. As one would expect, his voice was much deeper now, but Keith could recognize his posh British accent. Allura had a similar accent, which shocked Keith the first time that they’d met, but even so, there was something about Lotor’s voice that no one would ever be able to imitate. A flash of pale hair slipped from the hood as he bent down and with his all too familiar smirk, Keith’s suspicion was confirmed.  


Keith shouldn’t have doubted it at all, it was painfully obvious. Besides, Lotor had always been one to make a dramatic entrance. And what better way to do that is there than in Final Fantasy armor?  


He tried his best to school his face into neutrality as the two made eye contact. Lotor’s predatorial smile widened in amusement, and Keith knew that he recognized him too. “Why hello there, dear friend, let’s have some fun shall we?”  


A golden gleam circled the iris of Lotor’s eye and Keith’s eyes widened slightly. Though there was still a chance that Lotor was the one being manipulated, Keith had a strong suspicion that he was actually the puppeteer in this game.  


As if on cue some sort of foreign _thing_ slipped into Keith’s conscience and pressed against his mind. There was no just way to describe whatever it was, but as it clawed with slick claws he knew it was Lotor’s doing and that he couldn’t let it reap control of his mind. A talon reached out and shoved, and Keith screamed. It was unnatural and _wrong_ in every way possible, and all Keith wanted was for it to get the hell out. The walls shielding Keith’s mind somehow stayed intact , but the fiend circled like a vulture.  


In his panic to keep Lotor out, it slipped Keith’s mind that it made no sense that Lotor would go after a Bereft, someone who had no powers at all, when prodigies were the only people of use to him. _Unless_ , Keith thought with annoyance, _he thinks_ that I do have powers and a talisman. The idea was so exasperating that Keith lost his focus for a minute which left a small dent in his mental fortress. Lotor noticed it at the same time, and the creature lunged for it.  


Irritation still stronger than his panic, Keith glared at Lotor, whose eyes were closed in concentration. “Yeah I don’t think so,” he said through clenched teeth. Instead of solidifying his wall again, Keith gathered all of the mental strength that he could and rammed back into the dark cloud. For a moment it faltered and allowed itself to be pushed backward, and Lotor looked startled when Keith opened his eyes. The two glowered at each other and a moment later, he felt the push again.  


It was an exhausting task to keep him back, but there was no way that Keith was going to let Lotor into his head and throw his body around like a rag doll.  


Their consciences continued to fight against each other, both as stubborn as mules, but Keith stumbled backward. How was he doing this? From all the things that Meticulous had told him, Keith assumed that everyone succumbed to Lotor’s— or the Phantom, as the public and Voltron knew him— power almost immediately. But it had to have been at least thirty seconds and Keith was still in control of his mind and body. His Bereft, useless body.  


A laser beam shot past his ear and Keith pressed himself to the brick wall, stealing a glance behind Lotor. Allura, Lance, and Hunk had disappeared somewhere, hopefully to safety, and Voltron had shown up. Against them was the man with an arm cannon that shot lasers, and from what he could see, they came from his eyes as well. In some other situation, Keith would have snorted at the triteness, most likely one where there wasn’t a powerful prodigy with the power to control anyone that he wanted to try to control him.  


When the first prodigies were first introduced to the city, Shiro had joked to Matt, who was determined to learn all that he could about them, that there would be supervillains with comic book powers where they could shoot light beams from their navel and lasers from their eyes running around the city soon. Keith had laughed and raised an eyebrow at Matt’s wild theories about powers. Then, Keith didn’t really believe in superheroes or supervillains or any sort of prodigies with odd powers. It was all fictional ideas that would always remain in his novels and video games. But now that he was actually witnessing a prodigy shooting lasers from his eyes and limb, the concept seemed a lot less laughable and scarier. To lighten the morbidness of it all, Keith dubbed him as Laser Man for now.  


Though it seemed like a small power, Keith was surprised at how much damage Laser Man was actually doing and how much Voltron was struggling against him. Glass was shattering, debris was falling and catching on fire, and worst of all he was wearing spandex booty shorts. Absolutely disgusting.  


However, this was not the usual fight that Voltron was used to. There were four female prodigies fighting the team, but from what Keith could tell, it was of their own free will. They wore similar uniforms to Lotor’s and faring a bit too well against Voltron. Laser Man didn’t seem intent on shooting at any of them.  


Leading the attack on the side of Voltron was, of course, Scythe, who was shooting the lasers back at Laser Man at a startling rate. Meticulous claimed that the team leader mimicked other prodigies’ powers, but Matt insisted that it was actually redirection of the energy. Keith wasn’t sure why he was so confident in this statement, but he wasn’t about to try to challenge Matt’s theory. He looked like an Assassin’s Creed concept drawing come to life with his bulking frame and pointed hood. It seemed to add to his look instead of making him seem tacky, and from that Keith knew he had a different wardrobe manager than a certain blue eyed gunslinger.  


Meticulous had both pistols out grinning almost manically as he fired at all five of his opponents, but more often than not, his ammo bounced off his target or missed entirely. _Yeah, he’s definitely living up to the name Meticulous_ , Keith thought. Obviously, every single shot wouldn’t be perfect, but he had thought that the hero would be able to shoot at least a little more accurately.  


Doing a bit more damage were Pigeon and Flare, who were throwing some sort of solar energy bombs at Laser Man and the woman who could apparate through the shadows. Keith guessed that Pigeon had designed the capsules, being technopathic, and Flare was supplying small orbs of light in them. It wasn’t convenient as either of their teammates’ weapons and virtually useless against the girl who appeared to have the ability to manipulate fire, but they helped create more openings for their teammates. And even though Keith didn’t know much about engineering and such, he could tell the bombs were super technologically advanced, something that Matt would probably lock himself in his room to study for two weeks to study.  


There was another prodigy with them that Keith hadn’t seen before on his many encounters with Voltron, wielding a golden staff and wearing a long white cloak accented with magenta. A feeling of dread hit Keith as he recognized it as Momentous, the official leader of Voltron. Keith already had a suspicion that it wasn’t going very well for the team, but if Momentous was out with them and not directing from their Batcave and fighting one of the female prodigies as well as Laser Man instead of trying to play hero and save Keith, they were doing really, really badly.  


Well, worse than usual– Keith hadn’t forgotten the time when his eyes were almost poked out with shards of glass when the mightly superheroes were running a bit late and had to have a random teenager kick a brainwashed person’s ass for them.  


For a second Keith could only watch Momentous. He wasn’t so stupid as to think that fights were like they were in movies— less theatrics and screaming was involved and they lasted maybe thirty seconds at most, but Momentous looked like an alien warrior from a sci-fi movie ready to defeat the villain, a blur of motion, parrying and jabbing at Laser Man like it was a dance. Somehow she was also able to deflect the last of Lotor’s unmanipulated prodigies, who Keith assumed had super strength. It was clear that she was a superior fighter to all of the other prodigies, but how Keith didn’t know. Even to Meticulous she was a mystery. And also someone not to get in the way of.  


Suddenly Meticulous glanced over at him, eyes wide. “Keith, watch out!” he shouted. Keith didn’t even have to turn back to Lotor to know that his ring-adorned fist was making a beeline towards his face. There wasn’t even time for him to flinch so Keith stayed put, dreading the attack already.  


The adrenaline may have clouded over his senses a bit, but it was safe to say that it hurt like hell when Lotor’s hand made contact with Keith’s lower jaw. Keith turned to glower at Lotor, who was already planning another attack. Head foggy, Keith stepped out of the path of Lotor’s kick and leaned heavily on the wall behind him.  


Despite the pain that came with moving, he shouted back to Meticulous, “Yeah, thanks I can see that! Your timing is as excellent as your aim with a gun!”  


“I was _trying_ to be helpful, can’t you show a guy some gratitude once in a while?” Meticulous replied, dodging a laser before firing his own guns twice more.  


“Thank you _so, so, very much_ for doing absolutely nothing yet again,” Keith deadpanned. He heard footsteps, and without even looking away from Meticulous, Keith aimed his arm upwards into Lotor’s face.  


Meticulous wasn't the only one who enjoyed a bit of theatrics when fighting brainwashed villains.  


There was a loud crack when it made contact, and Lotor swore. He stumbled back away from Keith, looking more exhausted than amused now as he wiped the blood from his face with his sleeve. If he could, Keith would have laughed. Meticulous’ mouth had opened slightly and lowered his guns, allowing Laser Man to singe part of his cloak. Pigeon shouted something at him, hovering in the air with mechanical wings strapped to their back. They looked like they came from a steampunk novel, from the wings to the rusted goggles that sat in lieu of a mask beneath their olive green hood. It seemed that all the prodigies had to have some sort of fictional trope, Keith mused, looked over the entire team.  


Though the hero was small, Meticulous blanched and went into full work mode again when he caught Pigeon’s gaze. Keith turned to Lotor, who had stopped attempting to attack him and was looking at Keith almost sadly beneath his dark warpaint.  


“I—” Keith began to say. A fit of coughs came out before he could say anything significant, and he remembered now that they were surrounded by smoke and there was debris falling around them on fire. It was like he was living in a post-apocalyptic dream world. He might have still been. “Lotor,” he tried again. “I’m a Bereft, completely useless, seriously. So stop… stop…” He trailed off, abstractly gesturing at his head, slumping into the wall again. Of course, the universe had to choose a weak-lunged teenager to throw into all this shit without any enhanced abilities.  


Lotor’s presence dropped from his mind and Keith let out a breath. He looked at Keith with cold detachment and stopped only centimeters away. “I am Phantom. Hand over the Red Talisman at once or your friends will meet their deaths by each others’ hands,” he recited.  


Keith blinked. He wasn’t expecting such formality. When he processed the words, his eyes narrowed. “How many fucking times do I have to tell you,” Keith began quietly, standing up, “I do not have your goddamn Red Talisman!” He practically shouted the words, weeks of aggravation seeping into his voice. By the end, they were almost close enough to touch noses. Unfortunately, Keith was an angry crier and at some point, tears started to fall. He wiped at his eyes in frustration.  


Lotor regarded him quietly for a moment. And then a hanging flower pot crashed dangerously close to them, followed by several blasts from the arm cannon. Lotor rolled his eyes, focusing once again to control the insubordinate prodigy. Keith took the distraction as an opportunity for retribution, despite already breaking Lotor’s nose. He brought up his left arm and swung at the other boy’s jaw hard.  


Keith tried to hide his surprise when Lotor didn’t even flinch. He gave Keith one more long look before turning to signal to the other prodigies. Just like that, everything was over quick as it had begun. Keith took in the aftermath and winced. Knowing his luck, Acxa would probably make everyone come outside and sweep up the rubble left behind when they weren’t doing anything.  


The members of Voltron looked baffled as Lotor and his prodigies retreated, the shadowy one simply leaning into a wall and the others hooking ropes into the rooftops of tall buildings and disappearing.  


“What the hell just happened,” he heard Meticulous say.  


“Should we go after them?” asked Pigeon.  


“No,” Momentous said. “There isn’t any point in doing so. Just that one.” She gestured to Laser Man, who had been left behind. “I’m going to talk to the policemen, it is impossible to get anywhere in this mess.”  


The team saluted her and Meticulous pulled out his rope. Momentous pulled up her white hood and turned towards the direction of the four officers waiting. It was amusing how few were called when things like this happened these days. But then she noticed Keith and frowned. Keith looked away nervously when he realized that she’d changed her path and was coming towards him in long elegant strides.  


“If you fail to bring me the talisman the next time, Keith, I’m afraid that we will not restrain ourselves,” Lotor said from beside him. Keith startled. He’d somehow forgotten that he was there. But before he could even open his mouth to reply, Lotor was gone.  


Keith rolled his eyes. As children no one really cared about who was a Bereft or a prodigy, but Lotor should’ve been obvious, even then. One thing all prodigies shared was an obnoxious flair for dramatics, one of Lotor’s defining personality traits.  


“Are you alright, Keith? I am terribly sorry you had to get caught in the middle of that,” Momentous said with a frown.  


Keith shrugged dismissively. “Honestly it isn't anything new, especially when Meticulous is always hanging around.” He nodded to where the hero was grinning brightly next to his teammates, Laser Man tightly wrapped in his lasso looking embarrassed and confused as a police officer interrogated him. “On my way to the library today, actually, I was almost attacked by pyrobees because of this. It happens all the time so some guy who shoots lasers isn't much of a problem.” Momentous pursed her lips as her gaze also turned towards Voltron. “Oh, there's uh, probably something else you should know,” Keith began quietly. It felt odd, like his mouth had just spewed it out without consulting his brain first.  


“Yes, what is it,” Momentous asked. Though she maintained her professionalism, her eyes held curiosity that made Keith wonder just how old she was, because despite her almost ancient aura he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was maybe only his age.  


Keith stared down at his feet. “He was here, the Phantom he called himself I think. He’s the one who was controlling the guy with the laser arm, which you probably already knew, and tried to get me too. For some reason he didn’t, probably because I’m a Bereft but I don’t know. Anyway I uh, I think I know him.”  


Though he mumbled the last part quietly, it was clear Momentous heard. She stared at him with wide eyes for a moment before speaking. “Phantom? Are you sure? I’m not trying to doubt you, but we’ve been after him for ages and if he was here today and you know his identity…” She trailed off and her eyes became unfocused but then her head snapped back up. “And you said that he tried to render your mind. But he could not?”  


Keith nodded. “Yeah. I don’t see the point of it, I don’t even have any powers, but he seemed really determined to, and wasn't able to. Does that happen with all the Berefts? I honestly don't know what's going on right now, my friends disappeared, I think I'm really late to work now and have to go but uh, I guess I'll see you guys around.”  


“Keith,” Momentous said as he turned to leave. “Your energy, your immunity, it doesn't add up. You claim to not have the talisman or any abilities but manage to give a similar aura to the other members of Voltron. Further, you've been able to withstand Phantom’s powers, which I myself am barely able to do. If you'd be willing, I'd like for you to come by the castle soon to speak to our analyst. I will meet you in two days time to meet with you to hear your decision and work out a time when the others are not around, I'm afraid this is not something that we can involve them in. We value the privacy and safety of our members, and it seems a bit redundant if you were to be to join the team with all of them knowing who you are.”  


“If I what–?” Keith started.  


Momentous gave him a knowing smile. “I think that there is more inside you than you realize,” she said vaguely.  


Keith didn't like the way she was looking at him, almost analytically like she could see through every exterior layer he'd built up, see every single thought and secret that he ever had. A shiver ran through him at the thought of such vulnerability. There was definitely _something_ that made Momentous completely different than the rest of her team, but what, Keith did not know.  


“And before you go, one more thing. You said you knew the Phantom, I respect if you would prefer not to say but it'd be immensely helpful if you told me who he is.”  


Keith nodded. Part of him felt guilty that he was about to tell Momentous, Lotor _had_ been his best friend once upon a time. And there was no real reason why he should help Voltron out. They only looked out for him anyway was out of superhero obligation and the hope that he'd lead them to the red talisman. But something in the back of his mind kept urging him to her anyway. And though that voice rarely spoke, when it did the best option was to listen. So he did. “Lotor Evarik,” he said with a hoarse voice.  


Momentous’ formal patience was replaced with surprise and it took her a few seconds to say something. “Lotor?” she asked, unsure and anxious as she studied Keith again.  


“I swear it was him. And… and I think he recognized me too,” Keith said, his gaze not moving from the floor.  


She shook her head slightly. “It cannot be… he couldn't possibly…” Keith watched as the hero mumbled quietly to herself in a bit of a daze, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He was pretty sure he should've said something, but he didn't have a clue as to what that'd be. Finally Momentous said, “I see, thank you for telling me this. Have a good day Keith.”  


Her smile seemed forced and artificial as she walked away, and Keith nodded numbly. _That was weird_ , he thought, _but now I really have to run. Oh man Acxa is going to be pissed…_  


Keith allowed one more glance towards Voltron before turning the corner and sprinting in the direction of the bakery, his conversation Momentous echoing in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a short chapter but whoops. As always, shout out to the lovely [beta](http://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisaltea/pseuds/thisisaltea) and happy April, I hope that you didn't hate my wattpad style author insert too much lol. Have a nice day/night/whatever I'm out.  
> P.S. Yeah, I gave Lotor a last name. I may have done one wattpad trope in here but I refuse to make him Lotor Galra you can fite me.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy heck that was not supposed to turn into a minor writing hiatus but you know the depression prohibits. If you're still reading how the fuck this isn't worth it in my opinion but still thanks.

Much to his surprise, when Keith made it to the bookstore after everything that had gone down with Voltron and Phantom, only Nyma was working. The other four employees that were usually working at this time today, including his manager Acxa, were nowhere to be seen. It was such a mundane issue compared to those that had fell upon him earlier in the day that he nearly laughed.

“Well look who bothered to show up,” Nyma quipped from where she was somehow taking inventory of their cups as she wiped down the countertop.

Keith winced guiltily. “Sorry, something happened when I was leaving the library. Where’s everyone else?” He speed walked to the counter to help Nyma, and she eagerly tossed the damp towel to him. Miraculously, there were only a few customers inside at the moment, which was even odder given that the shop seemed to always crowd when only two or three of them were working.

Nyma shrugged and readjusted her blonde ponytail. “They left a while ago, in the middle of a shift, didn’t seem like they wanted to tell me where so I just let them be. It’s actually been really quiet today, barely anyone outside either. It’s honestly kinda throwing me but I hope it lasts.” Keith hummed in agreement.

He and Nyma weren’t the closest, but they tolerated each other and he’d had a crush on her cousin Rolo for a while in their sophomore year of high school. It felt odd talking about school in past tense now, as he had only graduated about a month ago, but at the same time it felt like decades ago.

Keith glanced to the door as he wiped on the unoccupied tables and countertop. His mind unwillingly went into conversation overanalysis mode and before he could stop it, Keith found himself saying, “Hey Nyma, did anything weird happen outside like an hour ago?”

Nyma’s head popped up from below the counter and she raised an eyebrow. “Was there supposed to be? It’s just been really quiet since my shift began, not many people have come in and nothing's been going on outside as far as I know. Is there something to be concerned about?”

He studied her for a moment, and after deciding that she was being genuine, Keith shook his head. “No, nevermind. I just… yeah forget I said anything, I’m going to shelve.” Leaving no room for reply, the boy lightly tossed down the rag and headed for the carts of books sitting by the backdoor. How had she not even noticed when things were bingtssed around and lit on fire like it was a goddamn Marvel movie? Was a prodigy hiding it from the people on this block? Though the types of powers prodigies could have that Keith knew were very limited, al being either those he had encountered firsthand thanks to Lotor, ones scribbled in Matt’s notebook of cool prodigies he’s seen on the news or met somewhere, and those of Voltron, Keith couldn’t think of any that would allow that. Maybe something psychological like Lotor’s or an energy related.

Keith took the first book from his cart with a sigh and pushed it onto the shelf a bit too aggressively. Nothing was making sense at all.

Half an hour later, the bell chimed and Acxa walked in, followed by Ezor, Zethrid, and Narti. They looked exhausted as Keith felt, and Zethrid immediately made a beeline for the coffee machine. Keith watched curiously as she filled her cup to the rim and dumped thirty packs of sugar into it. Narti and Acxa sunk into two of the fluffiest reading nook beanbags, and Ezor settled with collapsing into the nearest open chair. There was the unmistakable sign of a bruise forming beneath her right eye and Keith averted his eyes immediately, hoping that he hadn’t been staring.

He wondered what they had been doing for the past hour, if Nyma was correct. It couldn’t be worse than running away from possessed prodigies with heightened abilities like Keith found himself doing more and more frequently, but whatever it was, it obviously wasn’t just a staff meeting or luncheon. But it was none of his business, Keith reminded himself.

After a moment of sitting in the plastic chair, eyes closed and mouth downturned, Ezor stood. She went over and sat on top of Acxa, kissing her quickly before the other could protest. Acxa wrinkled her nose, half heartedly swatting at her girlfriend's long dyed ponytail and trying to push her off.

Keith was reminded of Shiro and Matt, who acted like love sick fifteen year olds, the only difference now being that the two males still pretended they weren't dating. Keith bit back a small smile and turned back to the cart of books.

“What's up, Keith?” Ezor said only a moment later, rather loudly into his ear. Keith dropped the book he’d been holding, startled by her sudden proximity. “Whoops,” she said, shrugging. Ezor did not look sorry in the slightest, though she picked the book up and placed it onto the shelf for him. “I hope the library was really fucking interesting for you, because Acxa was kinda pissed when you didn't get here on time. Like there was this huge group of guys in fancy suits that came in and demanded elaborate bullshit coffee– you know, as rich white men always do.” She paused and looked to Keith for silent confirmation.

Keith let himself smile a bit in appreciation. Ezor was always mindful of her rate of speech, given that she usually talked in long rapid spurts, and always made sure that when she talked to him Keith felt like he was actually having a conversation instead of having a slew of bullshit thrown at him.

Keith nodded and Ezor continued, picking up another book from the cart. “Nyma's shift hadn't started yet so she was out on lunch and the guys got all bitchy because there was only four of us working in the entire goddamn place and you always manage to get the frivolous shit done quickly but you weren't there, and my god it was a disaster.” She sighed and shook her head.

Keith snorted. “Damn, that must've been fun. When I got here though you were the one not here though. I didn't think that Acxa would plan out for the four main managers to all be out midday on a Saturday. Was it something important?”

She shrugged, not looking at him and pulled off another book. “Eh you know, obligatory manager duties. It just… took a bit longer than expected and I took a wooden plank to the face walking back,” she explained, gesturing to her eye. “Superheroes are running around the city and all nowadays, you know?” Ezor shifted awkwardly and looked down at the spine of the book.

“Ah fuck,” she said abruptly. Keith glanced over and his coworker gestured to the book spine. Keith groaned as well.

“Can't we just put it on a lower shelf or something?” he scowled.

Ezor shook her head, glancing over at Narti and Acxa. The two would throw a fit if a book was un-alphabetized. “Unless you can pull off some parkour shit, go get the ladder because there is no way that either of us can get this thing up there.”

Keith shot her a look of annoyance, but there wasn't any real hostility in it. And then, “Not it!” Keith snatched up the next book on the cart and darted away, ignoring Ezor's protests of inequality. He did not want to have to get the ladder.

The ladder was all the way in the backroom with all the unorganized new books, and to get it right now he had to ask Zethrid. Keith didn't have anything against talking to Zethrid, she could be very polite, but it didn't change the fact that she was intimidating as hell 90% of the time which made it more difficult than usual for Keith to talk to her, let alone ask for something. Besides, she and Ezor were friends anyway so it was a perfect excuse to go socialize.

“Not my fault you're only five feet tall, or else this wouldn't have to happen,” Keith said monotonously from a safe distance. He glanced down at the book cover. Six of Crows– young adult and in the completely wrong part of the store, but still on the opposite side of where Ezor was.

Ezor stuck her tongue out at him. “Yeah, you aren't much of a mountain yourself, Mr. Five-foot-six-and-three-quarters!” she sang. Keith didn't even look back when he started towards the YA section, raising his free hand and flicking his middle finger up.

Ezor gasped dramatically as if she were personally offended. “Keith! This is a family friendly business you inconsiderate asshole!” Then, after a moment, she sighed and turned the opposite direction to get the ladder.

As Keith made his way through the store, his thoughts went to the book he'd put into his bag before everything went to chaotic shit. He was genuinely curious about what was in it, because there was no way it was just a cool looking journal or sketchbook. It was way too realistic looking and from what he'd seen there was no company watermarking.

Maybe it was a spell book, he mused, it had the right look and Wicca was becoming more popular so it was plausible. Perhaps it was a cosplay prop, but that was unlikely. No one who went to the library right now had the time or money to make something that detailed. Really, it could be anything, and despite his curiosity Keith wasn't going to risk it and try to find out.

For the rest of his shift, Keith tried to keep the superhero bullshit out of his mind. The book, Phantom, Momentous’ implication that he might be a prodigy, all of it. It didn't go very well overall, but the last one was the most persistent and Keith couldn't help but wonder.

What if he did have some sort of power, maybe a super minor and mundane one like what Matt had, minorly enhanced adeptness at something. It was common enough, Keith knew several people with some small scale abilities; Nyma was able to create small bursts of thermal energy which she often used to warm a cold cup of coffee; some military friend of Shiro’s who Keith met once could supposedly see in the dark without goggles; there was a boy in his eighth grade algebra class who could make small whirlpools in his water bottle.

But even if that was the case, it wasn't enough to consider him a prodigy– not on the same scale as Voltron anyway. Prodigies were the incredibly powerful ones, people with a strong and useful gift that they were able to control. Even if he did have a small power, it was entirely unnoticeable because there was not a single aspect of uniqueness about Keith other than the fact that prodigies were always trying to kill him.

Prodigies were able to make a difference in the world, something than what one could do with the ability to communicate with raccoons or sneeze with their eyes open.

About forty five minutes from the end of his shift, Keith was barely keeping his eyes open as he mechanically added five more copies of The Wishsong of Shannara to the science fiction shelf. It was only about nine, but there was a haze of exhaustion clouding over his concentration that was impossible to shove away. Though Keith encountered Voltron more often than not these days, seeing Momentous and Lotor wasn't a part of it before.

He pushed his cart forward to the next aisle and heaved a sigh. He had another meeting at the library with Hunk at eight in the morning, class later that afternoon, then it was back here right after.

Who knew making an effort to be social would be so much goddamn work?

“Hey,” a flat voice said, poking his shoulder. Keith’s head snapped up quickly. He grimaced in apology but didn’t back down from Acxa’s unyielding stare.

She didn’t even acknowledge he'd practically been napping on the pile of books moments ago. “We’re closing up early tonight so you can go now. You don't have to shelve the rest of these, we already have fifteen more copies of this book on the shelf.”

In his half conscious state, Keith hadn't even noticed that the rest of the cart was just different editions of the exact same book. He blinked in confusion but nodded. When he thanked Acxa, it took all Keith's will to refrain from jumping up and sprinting to the backroom to get his bag.

She was obviously closing early for her own reasons, Ezor was probably taking her to a movie or something, but Keith was convinced it was a sign from the universe that it didn't hate him as much as he'd thought. It was still probably enjoying watching him get humiliated and barely escape death every other day, but there was some pity. 

Once he grabbed his things, Keith went straight to the 7-11 at the next street corner and bought a Monster. Exhausted, Keith didn't even bother to make it all the way out of the convenience store before pushing in the tab and chugging down the sour green juice.

Keith popped in his earbuds and made his way towards the apartment. In the opposite direction, the flashing lights of police cars and paramedic trucks illuminated the street. Since prodigies began appearing, it was becoming more dangerous to be in the city instead of less, Keith mused with bitter amusement.

Which made him incredibly stupid for walking home alone in the dark, especially given his history with prodigies recently, but it was too late to do anything about it now. Besides, apparently he was being shadowed by Voltron for protection and even more importantly, Keith actually liked walking home.

The bookstore was six blocks away from Shiro and Matt’s apartment, easy to get to if he wanted to take the subway, but the long walk was kind of nice. Around this time the streets began to empty and, other than the occasional street performer, there was no one else out anymore in this part.

Crime was elsewhere in the city tonight, and though that wasn't good, Keith was a bit selfish and found himself glad for this. When he wasn't having to outrun malicious, possessed prodigies, Keith's life was still calm for the most part, this walk being one of the calmest moments. He'd be damned if he was not going to savor this moment. 

Keith exhaled and closed his eyes, turning the familiar corner easily without having to open them. There were only two more blocks until he got to the apartment now, and despite his naturally quick pace it still didn't feel fast enough. Because Shiro and Matt weren't expecting him back until at least 9:45 they were probably couch cuddling and talking about electromagnetism or whatever, something Keith didn't want to walk in the middle of tonight, but he was especially eager to sit down and have a moment of peace in his room alone.

This was about the time Meticulous would be out saving teenage girls from muggings and liberating puppies being sold on the black market, so Keith knew he would also have time to see what was in the book he'd found in the library. Though it was probably nothing, he had a feeling that it wasn't exactly something he’d want to explain to his spandex clad part time chaperone.

After a few more painfully slow minutes of impelling his legs to move forward, Keith made it to the familiar, dull, modernist building that he and his brother currently called home. Keith practically ran up to the metal stairwell doors, swiping his card on the magnetic lock and swinging it open without pause in his step.

Despite his boisterous entry, Keith padded down the hall of floor six quietly and swung open the unlocked apartment door without any of the theatrics he had with the stairs. Surprisingly, their main room was empty. A rerun of Treehouse Masters played mutely on the small TV sitting atop a haphazardly stacked pile of books and there was a fresh crater in the blankets on the couch, but Shiro and Matt were nowhere in sight.  
Keith pulled off his shoes, brows furrowed. When he stepped further in though, he could faintly hear voices from their 'kitchen’— a small island, a two burner stove top, microwave oven, and a refrigerator old enough that it was qualified to be called an icebox.

Keith drew nearer and recognized Shiro and Matt, distress clear in the latter's voice.

Keith, usually was not a nosy person. But he'd never heard so much anxiety in Matt's voice in the many years they'd known each other, no matter what shit was thrown his way so something was very wrong. Everything in Keith told him to just walk in and ask what was wrong, but he also knew that they'd lie or brush it off and try to change the subject. So instead he pressed against the drywall pillar, gripping the coin around his ndck subconsciously and wishing he could understand what they were saying.

As if a djinn had come and answered his call, their voices became significantly louder and unmuffled by the wall. Keith startled, but instead of dwelling on the sudden clarity or the immorality of eavesdropping on a private conversation obviously not meant for others’ ears, he focused on the two men's words, grasping at small details to try to piece together what they were talking about.

“—until Momentous is able to get Keith to the Castle for analysis, I’m not sure how well we'll fare against Phantom now that he's officially put himself out there and is admitting to wrecking havoc around here, he's pretty damn powerful. Momentous is able to shield a bit, but it isn't enough,” Matt was saying. The man heaved a frustrated sigh. “It'd be great if that last talisman would show up right about now.”

Keith startled. Were they were talking about him? That was pretty clear, but how the hell did he know about that? The leader of Voltron had explicitly told Keith not to tell anyone about it, and Shiro didn't seem surprised about it so somehow both of them had found out. Were they working for Voltron? For Phantom?

Before his brain could jump ahead to an even more obscure and irrational conspiracy, Matt continued. “Maybe after we run some tests with him, something can be figured out but until then we're sitting ducks waiting for the dick to come in and make everyone kill each other.”

This made him startle. He'd actually never considered that possibly. Phantom was powerful. Possibly even more so than Voltron when not using it on controlling another prodigy, which meant he could potentially take control of one of them and that would be even more disastrous. If he hadn't already, it was only a matter of time until Phantom thought of this too.

Stealth forgotten, Keith dropped his keys and muttered a terrified, “Holy fuck.”

Matt and Shiro went quiet, but then Shiro asked, “Keith? Is that you?”

With no other option Keith stepped out of the dark hall with his gaze averted and stood awkwardly. “Uh, yeah. Hey. Acxa closed early so she let us leave. Should I just go or…?”

Shiro grimaced. “How much did you hear?”

“Not much,” Keith answered warily then narrowed his eyes. “How do you know about Momentous?”

The two older men glanced at each other meaningfully, a silent debate spanning for a long moment. Keith waited.

Finally Shiro sighed and his hand went up to pinch the bridge of his nose, directly over the scars spanning across it. “Might as well. He was going to find out eventually.”

Matt scowled pettily. “Are you going to make me do it? He's your brother.”

“You're the one who's actually relevant in this though,” Shiro retorted.

Keith sensed a session of off topic, petty bickering arising. “Alright,” he interrupted, “I couldn't care less which fucking one of you do it just tell me what the hell is going on.”

Their mouths snapped shut and this time Matt wasthe one to sigh. “Okay, so you know how I have a bunch of notebooks with data on different types of prodigies and stuff?”

“Isn't that just you being a nerd,” Keith deadpanned. In the background Shiro snickered. 

“Ouch. Okay. Anyway,” Matt continued, elbowing his friend in the ribcage. “Those were actually for research. You, Keithorito, are looking at the head research and development scientist for the Voltron Association.  
Keith bristled at the nickname, doing his best to seem unimpressed and underwhelmed by Matt's reveal. “Alright, and Shiro?”

Matt dramatically grimaced and slung an arm around Shiro. “Well, that, unfortunately, is some classified information that Momentous would whoop my ass for if she knew I knew or told you, ” he said with a shrug.  
“She'd also whoop your ass if she knew that you told me about this, ah, little experiment,” Shiro said with a raised eyebrow, snaking his non prosthetic arm around the other's waist.

Despite his cool facade and the lighthearted flirting happening in front of him, Keith was honestly a bit confused and freaked out. But he wouldn't let them know that. So Keith rolled his eyes and sighed convincingly. “I'm going to bed.” he announced.

Before closing the bedroom door behind him, in his confused and exhausted state, Keith turned back. Shiro and Matt were standing to face each other now, blushing profusely and making odd expressions at each other. He rolled his eyes again. “I hope you know that this conversation is not finished.”

If Keith were a useful prodigy who had a costume, he'd spitefully turn and swish his cape that moment he slammed the door. Meticulous was starting to rub off on him a bit too much.

Meticulous.

Suddenly Keith remembered the book and ran over to his bed, yanking the zipper on his bag open.  
Just as he'd left it, the book sat at the top of his items tauntingly. Keith picked it up and studied the cover again. After a few more hesitant moments of studying the leather, he growled, “Fuck it,” and opened to the first page.

The soft yellowing paper was filled with neat text printed in English and a language that Keith couldn't identify. It was unlike any that he knew of. There wasn't much on the page, an illustration took up the entire lower third, but before Keith could start reading the English portion, something caught his eye. Bolded and underlined in English and foreign language, as well as in the picture caption was a word that Keith had become far too familiar with lately: Voltron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was short but I swear I've already got most of c7 written and I'll hopefully stop going 2 months without anything. Anyway, thanks for reading have a good day/night/whatever


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *this chapter was mostly written in the middle of the night on my phone, please excuse any mistakes

Though it was clearly handwritten, the book was written like a goddamn textbook. The process was painful, as some words were unclear scribbles and made the content sound incredibly dull, but Keith spent the next several hours reading through it anyway.

He’d originally thought Voltron was only a weird, cool sounding name that the prodigies had conjured up, something that sounded like it was from some 80’s sci-fi TV show about space robots, but it was more than that. Voltron had begun probably over a millenia ago, and instead of five people, it was an underground organization of prodigies protecting the city. The Voltron he knew was just a scratch on the surface of what it really was.

Scythe, Meticulous, Pigeon, and Flare were the current top-tier elite members of the institution, the most powerful prodigies who went out in the streets and fought crime, the only person ranking higher being Momentous, who was this cycle’s guardian. Though there were only four of them that the city knew of now, the full Voltron had five members, and each member had to be chosen by the talisman. From all the drama with Phantom, Keith was safe to assume the only one missing was the wielder of the red talisman. They didn’t necessarily _need_ all five talismans, they were fine with those four and then the lower ranking prodigies, but in dire emergencies all five were needed. That was now, apparently.

He also came to the conclusion that, with the help of the surrounding text and fragments of Meticulous’ random bits of information on the talismans, the picture in the first page that kept showing up in different parts and diagrams– a magnificent lion-like spirit, it's fur the five colors of the talismans and glowing eyes– was the result of a fully formed Voltron. In most pictures, it stood behind the five heroes, roaring fiercely as they stared down an off-page villain. The talisman holders were always different but the lion remained the same. The cycles seemed to be spread out, the last significant one being around the same time as Ancient Rome.

Each individual talisman had a lioness depicted in one subtle way, though because it wasn't complicated enough, each cycle of Voltron the artifacts changed and the design was different. There was always a gemstone of the talisman’s color though– amethyst in the black, ruby in the red, peridot in green, apatite in blue, and amber in yellow.  
Keith had scoffed at this.

Five incredibly powerful magical artifacts that had the power to probably destroy the galaxy, assigned a color in the group like the different shape tiles in second grade math class.

_The talisman selects its holder based off traits matching the properties of its gemstone. One can be spotted as the current user of a talisman of Voltron by the coloring of their eyes. It may be subtle, a violet or red tint or flecks of gold, blue, or green, though a brown eyed holder of the blue talisman might find their eyes turn blue or the blue eyes of a yellow talisman holder may change to gold._

There was a long paragraph elaborating in the meanings behind each gemstone following that part, which Keith skipped. He already knew them anyway. His father had an affinity for geology, and though a firm believer in science, he’d teach Keith about all the meanings behind different gemstones, drilling them into his head so at a moment’s notice the boy could easily list off the health properties of carnelian.

Even now, years later, those lessons must’ve stuck because Keith was able to interpret each one immediately. Amethyst: stability and protection. Ruby: courage and passion. Peridot: creation and hope. Apatite: intuition and communication. Amber: intellect and calm.

_Though there might be several qualifying people for the talisman, only one person may be the user, and when chosen their soul's bound to the talisman, and can only be severed through death. When the holder of a talisman passes, the other talisman holders will immediately sense it through their own talisman if the team has successfully bonded. The following two minutes after the talisman holder’s death, it is vulnerable to claiming by any outsider, whether it be Voltron or other._

Keith cringed at this part. The author’s detachment to the subject didn’t do anything for how crass and morbid it was. A moment later Keith let out a humourless laugh. At least he knew why Lotor was set on killing him.

Maybe an hour later, a grappling hook latched onto his window and the familiar blue of Meticulous tumbled inside. He didn’t turn around first and instead stared out the window, searching, then pushed the thick curtains closed again.

When Meticulous turned around, he looked surprised to see Keith wide awake, the book still propped casually on his lap. Keith snapped it shut before Meticulous could see it and flicked on another lamp. Meticulous seemed out of breath, shoulders tense but chest heaving, and his shadowed eyes were wide and a bit dazed like he’d just seen a ghost.

Keith tilted his head slightly. This was unusual, even after fights he usually seemed somewhat composed, and never this paranoid. It was obvious that he’d just left one now from the grime on his suit and twitching from leftover adrenaline in his fingertips.

Before he could undergo deeper analyzation, Meticulous schooled his features and leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. “Dude,” he said incredulously, “it's like two A.M. Why are you even awake? You know I’d eat a slice of pineapple pizza to get more than three hours of sleep, man. _Pineapple pizza._ ”

Keith watched Meticulous carefully as he slipped the book underneath the bedspread. It was better if Meticulous didn’t know what was inside it. “Okay, pineapple pizza isn’t _that bad_.” Meticulous opened his mouth to argue but Keith ignored him and continued. “If you need your sleep so much just go home, why are you even here?”

Meticulous sighed dramatically. Though he was quick to cover it, Keith saw him flinch and reach for his abdomen. “I’m afraid that isn’t how it works, Mullet Boy. It is my superhero-ly duty to protect citizens, no matter how ungrateful and poorly fashioned they may be.” Meticulous grinned when Keith scowled at the name, though he also couldn’t help but notice that despite his grin, his posture was unusually stiff and jaw was tightly clenched.

“It’s pretty redundant being here when Phantom only bothers to pick fights with me in the daytime,” Keith commented. Meticulous shrugged, and again Keith watched him wince. Keith narrowed his eyes. “So,” he said in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Shiro when he was interrogating Keith. “You going to tell me what happened or just stand there like an idiot until you pass out from pain?”

Meticulous was looking at the stack of books on Keith’s desk but jerked back in surprise. A moment later, Keith’s suspicions were confirmed as the hero doubled over with a grunt, nearly falling out of the window without his catlike grace present. Reflexively, Keith’s hand shot out and gently pulled Meticulous back into the window.

He shoved the things on his bed to the side and helped Meticulous sit down. Meticulous pushed back his hood with another sigh, and the arrogant superhero act was immediately dropped. With his messy brown hair and pained expression he looked young, more of a tired boy Keith’s age than an elite prodigy and guardian of the city. Keith was taken aback. If he was only maybe nineteen at most, Keith knew that the others were probably just as young. He gritted his teeth. Though only eighteen himself, the members of Voltron were way too young to have to be doing this shit, couldn’t the talismans have chosen someone older, like forty? In novels, the fight was always fought by the teenagers so maybe it made sense in some twisted way, but it felt incredibly unfair.

Meticulous went to rub his eyes but then remembered the mask was still there and stopped. After meeting Keith’s flat stare he grimaced and unbuckled his belt, tossing it on the floor unceremoniously then said, “Uh, there’s a giant cut made by a sword I’m pretty sure was tipped with poison, but other than that, all is well. Just another day of superheroing by a superhero of Voltron. It wasn’t Phantom though, the guy didn’t have those scary glowy eyes, just a regular prodigy gone rogue.”

Keith blinked. He didn't expect such a straight answer, there was always at least five more minutes of arguing involved whenever it was Shiro or Matt. Though Shiro and Matt were the only two people he ever really talked to and they were pretty much the same person nowadays so that didn’t really count. If he was a more sympathetic, socially adept person, he’d probably say something like, _oh no, that’s terrible I’ll go call nine-one-one_ , or _I’m so sorry how can I help_ , but since he wasn’t what came out was, “Damn, well that sucks.”

For a minute Meticulous just stared at him blankly. He was no longer curling into himself so the gash in his abdomen was open, and Keith wrinkled his nose at it. He wasn’t one to freak out around blood, but it was pretty gross. “ _Seriously_ ,” Meticulous said.

“Well what the hell do you want me to do, give you a bandaid and kiss it better?” Keith stopped when he realized his voice had risen in frustration. It was late and the guy was bleeding out on his bed, shouting was not the solution. “Uh, sorry… Is there some sort of magical antidote I can get you, or tea, some aspirin?”

Though trying to be sincere, Keith seemed to have come across even more snarky from the way that Meticulous glowered and crossed his arms again. “Not nine-one-one would be helpful,” Meticulous said, “though I'd go for a cookie.”

Keith sighed and pulled out his phone. It was obvious why he wouldn't want to go to the hospital and he probably had enhanced healing, but it was still more of a pain in the ass for Keith. He tapped on the google shortcut but paused. What was he supposed to look up, how to magically fix a giant gash in the stomach, what to do when a superhero is bleeding to death in your room, hospitals that heal poisoned wounds for free in the United States?

“Uh, for now try to put pressure on it to slow the bleeding?” he told Meticulous, though it came out as more of a question. He wasn’t a goddamn doctor, how would he know? Meticulous raised an eyebrow but shrugged, pulling off the hooded vest entirely and pressing it to his abdomen. Both of them cringed as the fabric quickly began to darken with blood. “You know, I thought you’d know how to handle this better, always being in danger of being stabbed and whatnot,” Keith said, trying for lightness.

Meticulous flipped him off weakly and leaned back, closing his eyes. Keith took the opportunity to slide the book out of view, though in his pained state it was probably safe to assume the prodigy hadn't seen it. Something inside the back cover caught his eye as he flattened the cover and Keith paused. An address was written hastily in sloppy handwriting, and oddly enough Keith could recognize it to be somewhere within the city. He found himself closing the Google search to open the camera on his phone. After glancing at Meticulous again to make sure he wasn’t paying attention, he snapped a picture and pushed the book under the comforter.

“I, uh, I’m pretty sure my bathroom doesn’t have what you need for that, will you be okay if I run out real quick to grab stuff?” Keith asked hesitantly, skimming over the WikiHow article. In the end he’d gone with the search _how to tend to a stab wound_. It was a bit disturbing ho many things had popped up but this seemed reliable enough. Meticulous let out a grunt of affirmation and nodded a bit. Keith winced, “Alright, I’ll be back soon. Just, uh, stay here?”

As he awkwardly picked up his jacket and wallet, Keith heard Meticulous snort quietly from the bed. He was stabbed and was dying, of course he wouldn’t be going here. _Stupid._ After one more quick glance back he shut the door to his room quietly and made his way down the hallway.

Matt and Shiro were wrapped up together on the couch, both snoring loud enough to wake up one of the original members of Voltron on the other side of the world. Keith smiled a bit but it faded quickly as he remembered the bad condition of the prodigy lying on his bed at the moment. He pulled on his shoes and started to the 24-hour drug store only a few minutes’ walk away.

* * *

Exiting the store, two plastic bags hanging off his arm, Keith looked down at the picture of the address he’d taken. He obviously should’ve been going back to the apartment to go help Meticulous until his enhanced healing kicked in enough, but if this was an address in the city and was in a book about Voltron, maybe it would lead him to someone from Voltron who would be able to properly help, maybe even extract the poison instead of just bandaging up the gash.

Keith let out a frustrated breath. “Fuck it,” he muttered aloud and typed the address into Google Maps. It was specific enough that there wasn’t any possibilities of confusing it for another place so that was one thing he didn’t have to worry about.

The address actually existed, it was maybe twenty minutes’ walk away. The only issue was that it seemed to be some abandoned building that had yet to be demolished right in the middle of the district where the people were the poorest, the crimes were more frequent, and the people were the most dangerous. Not even Voltron liked to hang around there very much, Meticulous had complained about having to go there in the middle of his babysitting sessions a few times, and that especially should’ve been an indicator not to go there. He was probably chasing a dead end anyway. But if a potential dead end into the city’s zone of disamenity was also the best chance to find a way to help Meticulous then so be it. 

Keith wasn’t sure why he suddenly cared so much about Meticulous, but he didn’t have time to dwell on the thought that he might have actually cared for the obnoxious hero. Not even the nagging at the back of his mind telling him this was incredibly stupid would talk him out of it. Who knew, maybe another prodigy of Voltron would come save his ass who would know what to do.

As he made his way down the dark, grubby streets, Keith was starting to question his decisions. For all he knew, Meticulous had already died, bled out or the poison got to his heart or something. And as much as he hated to admit it, this part of the city was terrifying. Dangerous childhood friends with dangerous superpowers? No problem. The shittiest zone of disamenity to exist? Very big problem.

Sure, Keith had lived in some pretty shitty beaten up places, but this was an entirely different level. Most of these people had been in poverty for generations and were probably never going to get out. If Voltron was supposed to be bringing hope and reassurance, why was the book sending him into the middle of this place?

A large man holding a cigarette caught his eye from the side of a building, and it took all of his will not to squirm and to glare levely back before continuing on. It was probably not a good idea to catch the attention of these types of people more than he already was walking around at three in the morning, but if he was, might as well make sure they knew he wasn’t someone to fuck with either.

Keith turned another corner. He’d somewhat memorized the way to this mystery place, not wanting to risk having his phone out in case of muggings or something. Sure he knew some basic self defence and had a pocket knife in his jacket in case of emergency, but it was best not to risk it too much around here.

He went into another dark spot between the flickering street lights and was hit with a wave of nausea. Keith stumbled and grabbed onto the wall. A boy who looked no older than fourteen stepped out of the shadows. His dark brown eyes were narrowed, exposed arm brandishing a tattoo depicting some gang sign He made a pulling motion with his index and middle finger and Keith’s breath swallowed even more. The prodigy looked down at Keith’s withering form with empty, menacing eyes. He didn’t even have to speak for the older boy to understand. This was him saying _give me your money or I’ll kill you_.

If there’d been enough air in his lungs for it, if this kid weren’t pulling the air out of them, Keith would’ve sighed in exasperation. He’d spoken too soon. Walking around alone in a dangerous foreign neighborhood, he was obviously going to get mugged. And because the universe loved teasing him, it was by a prodigy. A prodigy who was only a kid.

Keith’s chest ached, and it wasn’t just because the oxygen was being depleted from his body. In a slightly different sequence of events, he could’ve ended up in the exact same place. Hollow, desensitized and easily threatening to kill idiots stupid enough to wander around here at this time. _So much for that hope and justice to the city_ , he thought bitterly as he tossed his already pretty empty wallet in the kid’s direction.

The prodigy picked it up, frowned at the lack of cash, credit cards, or drugs, and he pulled again lightly. Keith slouched against the wall, ignoring the glass bottle shards digging into his palms, and narrowed his eyes as well, scowling at him. “You know, that’s pretty fucking weak. Do you rely on your magical powers to do everything?” Keith said mockingly. 

A small bit of air began to make its way back into his lungs as the kid looked away, anger in his eyes before it tightened again. That was clearly a bit of a sensitive subject. Keith pushed forward, “I’m a Bereft and I could probably kick your ass, little boy.” Under most circumstances, Keith would never talk to anyone like that, especially someone who could kill him with one more swipe of his hand. It was definitely not his smartest idea to get out of this and guilt clawed at every word, but he hadn’t been killed by pissing off an already dangerous and angry prodigy before so hopefully this would be no different. “You probably only know how to push around pieces of paper, you think you’re so goddamn cool because you’re a prodigy, huh? What a joke.”

The boy snapped, and Keith gasped as air rushed back fully into his straining lungs. The next moment though, Keith was rolling away from the fist that had grazed his jaw. Holy shit this kid could throw a punch. But so could he. Keith kicked at the prodigy’s legs and moved from the dark corner to under the streetlight. Only a moment later, the prodigy came stumbling over as well.

The next minute for Keith was a bit of a blur. He’d been in plenty of fights before growing up bitter and with a terrible temper and didn’t hesitate throwing punches at the kid even though the later was at least two inches shorter, but something about it was different. Keith felt more alert, he moved quicker despite not having done this since sophomore year of high school, and he was able to predict the prodigy’s moves easily though he was equally as skilled and reckless.

The next thing he knew though, they were both lying on the ground. The prodigy was breathing heavily and slouching over, nose bleeding and eyes wide as if the other had transformed into a demon. A foot or two away, Keith was back where he’d started, slouching against the building having the air pulled out of his lungs. It was not pleasant.

Keith choked and scowled weakly at the other boy, but soon everything was blurring out of focus and there was a sharp pain in his head. Well, so much for that. It seemed that he was going to die here at the hand of this kid, and Meticulous was going to die bleeding out in his room because he was stupid and decided to follow some random address written in some weird, stupid book. Just his luck.

But then something thin and silvery was roped around the prodigy, and Momentous was standing there, glaring sternly from under her cloak hood and holding the other end of the rope. In that moment Keith was reminded of Wonder Woman, if she wore a white cloak and had a staff instead of lingerie with the American flag on it. It would’ve been funnier if she hadn’t just saved his ass and was looking at him like a puppy that had just shit on all the furniture.

“The next time you pull something, Mr. Harris, we’re going to have to take you in,” Momentous told the prodigy. He looked down in shame, as if he were being scolded by his mother, which he might as well have been. Momentous knew his name and didn’t seem surprised to see him, and if there was some Voltron related thing around here and the kid was a prodigy, a really powerful one, she probably checked up on him frequently.

He shrugged but after looking up and meeting her militant stare, straightened and said “Yes, ma’am.”

She nodded, pulled him up by the hand and waved her hand in dismissal. “You may go, but I _will_ know if you go out and mess around again and there will be consequences.” The boy nodded and shuffled down the street, probably to wherever he lived.

“That poor boy,” Momentous said with a frown once they couldn’t see him anymore. Then she remembered Keith and looked down at him with the same stern reprimandation. “Now that Theo has been taken care of, Keith what the hell were you doing out here?” Keith opened his mouth to reply but Momentous continued. “Meticulous had strict orders to–”

“If I may,” Keith cut in, ignoring the glare Momentous shot him. “Meticulous was bleeding out and poisoned so he wasn’t able to do much. I was going to go find one of you so he doesn’t fucking _die_ , but go on, give me the speech and let Lotor take his talisman or whatever.”

Momentous’ expression shifted immediately. “Is he alright?” Keith shook his head. She closed her eyes for a moment. “We will go to him, but Keith, we must talk first.” Her tone reminded him of their last conversation, and Keith shifted uncomfortably.

“You have activated the powers of the red talisman. Do not try denying it, I am sure of it now, the energy is the same and from what I saw, that was not the skill level of a mere Bereft pedestrian.” Keith swallowed and stared at Momentous, his hand immediately going to his coin. She nodded. “The talisman has chosen you. And I assume you’ve found the journal I left you as well if you were going to the depicted address before Theo intercepted you. The choice is entirely yours, and I hate to spring this upon you so suddenly, but please consider joining Voltron. You have incredible potential, Keith, and the city needs you now more than ever.”

Keith was sure that his heart stopped for a moment. He did have the talisman, and worse, it had bound itself to him already so Lotor did have a reason to kill him now. And piled on top of that, Momentous was telling him he had to _join Voltron_. She didn’t say that he had to, the choice was his or whatever, but it was clear there’d be consequences and nagging if he declined.

Before he could fully process it though, Momentous switched back to concern and picked up the forgotten bag of medical supplies. “Now, let us go to Meticulous.”

They walked in silence, Momentous not batting an eye at the stares that she received from the sidewalk lurkers– immunity to humiliation must’ve come with being a superhero– and Keith awkwardly walk-running to keep up with her.

He swiped his key on the door and Momentous started up the stairs without hesitation. Still a bit light headed from earlier, Keith gripped the hand rail and followed. Normally he wouldn’t have, the bar was coated with decades of germs and grime, but he was too anxious to think of anything but that he might walk into his room to find a corpse.

“This floor,” Keith said quietly, moving past Momentous and opening the metal door with a faded six on it. Momentous’ footsteps were silent and graceful as Keith led them down the hallway, stopping at his apartment and hoping that Shiro and Matt were still asleep.

Keith nudged the door open and sighed in relief. It had been maybe forty five minutes but his brother hadn’t moved an inch. He restrained himself from flat out run to his door but Momentous didn’t. She strode through the apartment purposefully, and before Keith could even confirm she had the right room, she was pushing it open. The white fabric of her cloak swayed around her feet from the quick movement, and Keith had to catch the door before it caught.

Luckily, Meticulous was still alive.

His face seemed a bit paler and there wasn’t a single part of his vest not tinted red with blood, but he was alive. Keith felt some of the tension drain from his shoulders, dropped the bag on the ground, and joined Momentous at the side of Keith’s bed. He was still conscious, muttering something to Momentous, who was glaring at him and pressing her hands to his forehead.

“Fancy seeing you here, princess,” Meticulous slurred.

“Be quiet so I can heal you, La–Meticulous. Must you go around getting stabbed all the time?” Momentous replied, her hands beginning to glow blue. She closed her eyes and the light spread to encompass both of them.

It continued to spread when suddenly Momentous’ eyes flew open and it immediately dissipated. “Meticulous, you said it was just a rogue prodigy, correct?” she asked warily.

Meticulous nodded. “Yeah, some weird guy with a purple hood or something? Not sure why prodigies would walk around with poisoned daggers and shit when they’ve also got powers, his were kind of alchemic like yours, but I dunno, aesthetic I guess.”

Momentous’ face was grim. “It was not just a rogue prodigy, I’m afraid. I recognize this poison; you were attacked by a druid, they’re the only ones to have access to this. Galra has returned.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyy look at me I got a chapter done in only like 3 weeks. And the next few will probably also come sooner because I've decided to make this story my Camp NaNoWriMo project (you can find me there under the same username lol). Thanks for sticking with this, and I actually outlined this chapter so the story has a more definite direction now can you believe that? The plot may be getting,,, darker as seen with the whole you can't separate from your talisman unless you die but at least I gave a logical explanation as to why Lance's eyes are blue ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Also holy feck man season six was wild, feel free to tell me how terrible my writing is or scream with me about how good season six was in the comments. Have a nice day/night/whatever that's all bye
> 
> **I am also back on Tumblr so you can find me there @[@adverbialstarlight](http://adverbialstarlight.tumblr.com)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you that some of this would be like throne of glass with the talismans but it just became even more so because I'm so uncreative the mains are called the cadre. whoops.

Shortly after she extracted the poison, Momentous had to leave. All of her energy had been used to heal Meticulous so she needed to rest to regain it, and, unfortunately, still had a city to protect and institution to run.

Her explanation on the situation with Galra and Phantom was vague, but she promised to elaborate later. Keith wasn’t sure when exactly _later_ would be, but it seemed that Momentous would be trying to push it back as much as possible.

“Voltron is not the only league of prodigies in this city, and the Galra do not have the same objectives as we do,” Momentous had said cooly. “The Talismans of Voltron have reappeared now for a reason, my father would not place them here meaninglessly. I have seen it in the visions, Zarkon has unfortunately made it here as well and must be defeated. This being said, I’ve no doubt that we will need the Cadre of Voltron very soon.” This last part she said looking directly at Keith, daring him again to not cooperate with Voltron. He gritted his teeth and didn’t look away.

Meticulous was still a bit delirious and trying to process this news, it seemed that Zarkon was a bit of an urban legend in Voltron and was having trouble comprehending he was a real threat despite once telling Keith that their main objective was to destroy him, and didn’t seem to notice the staredown happening between Keith and Momentous.

FInally Momentous huffed quietly, turning to the window and only moments later dropped down gracefully and theatrically to the sidewalk below. Despite her white cloak, she faded into the shadows immediately.

Keith was left to bandage up Meticulous, who was now far less drowsy and back to his usual obnoxious self. There was no time for Keith to dwell on Voltron or Zarkon when Meticulous acting like a high maintenance preteen. Well, more than usual. Keith blamed the shock and blood loss. He snickered like a twelve year old who just made a dick joke as Keith carefully pushed back the hem of his top to clean the wound and it took everything not to slap him.

“Aww, how romantic,” Meticulous crooned, “If you wanted my shirt off you should’ve asked sooner. I would’ve _gladly_ obliged.” Keith stared flatly at the hero’s teasing smirk and started to dab the with rubbing alcohol. He’d given no warning, which was a bit of a dick move, but watching that obnoxious, smug grin contort into a grimace killed any remorse Keith felt. “Ouch, ouch, _oh my holy motherfucking_ –” Meticulous whimpered loudly, hands moving to push away the cotton ball.

Keith rolled his eyes. “I thought you would be able to endure a little sting but I guess not. Whoops.” He paused to pick up the tube of ointment that Momentous had said would also help and turned back to see Meticulous cringing away from the as if Keith were holding a flamethrower at him instead of a tube of petroleum. Keith sighed and scooted closer.  
“Is that really necessary?” Meticulous squeaked. “That stuff’s really, _really_ gross and weird I just–”

“Look, I’d love to just slap a butterfly bandage over it and push you back out my window so I could get some fucking sleep,” Keith cut him off, already squeezing some of it onto a Q-tip, “but Momentous wouldn’t like that and you’ll be lying here for another five hours without this stuff. Why isn’t she or one of your other teammates doing this again? You’ve got to have _someone_ with more medical experience than a random ass guy with Google.”

Meticulous shrugged and tried to cover the wince as much as he could when the light blue paste touched his wound. “My dad’s a doctor, but I can’t really go up to the hospital in the middle of a heart surgery and go ‘ _hey Papa what’s up, by the way I’m kind of part of Voltron and just got stabbed. Can I get something done for this?’_ ” Keith snorted at that and Meticulous seemed to brighten a bit. “And the rest of my team is still out not-babysitting and doing their superheroey stuff individually or by now are sleeping, so yeah, you’re the only one who can do this, man. Solid bonding moment though, am I right?”

“You are the worst babysitter ever. I hope Momentous isn’t paying you for this.” Keith tried to match Meticulous’ nonchalant attitude and not freak out that in a moment he was going to have to touch his abdomen– which was covered in less blood now but still had a giant hole in it, canceling out any sort of appreciation Keith might have had for those well sculpted muscles– to bandage it.

There were so many ways he could fuck it up. He could wrap it too tightly. He could put the cotton gauze in the wrong place. He could accidentally put his finger in the cut. Holy fuck, he could accidentally put his finger in the cut.

The more Keith thought on it, the more squeamish he became so he finished applying the rest slower to stretch out the time until he had to bandage it. Finally though it became borderline creepy so he tossed the Q-tip out and looked back up to Meticulous.

Meticulous was silent now, watching him intently. Their eyes met and Keith found himself thinking of the book again, about how the talisman changed the wielder’s eyes. What was Meticulous’ original eye color? They couldn’t have been blue naturally, especially not with the basic laws of genetics existing. And if Momentous was correct and he had tapped into the red talisman’s powers, entirely bonded to the talisman and whatnot, were his eyes red now? He hoped not, that would just be weird and impossible to explain.

A moment later Keith realized that in his pondering he’d ended up staring, and even worse, Meticulous was still staring back as well. They both averted their eyes quickly.

Keith cleared his throat awkwardly and picked up the gauze. “I, uh, I’m going to have to bandage this up now, can you try to relax a bit?” Meticulous nodded and Keith watched as he unclenched his jaw and relaxed his shoulders. “And, uh, and you’ve got to sit up a bit.” Meticulous pushed up from the slouch he’d been in and nodded.

Ignoring the shakiness in his hands, Keith tore the gauze from the packaging and put it down down carefully. _With the gauze over it there is no possible way to accidentally get a finger in it_ , Keith scolded himself as he began to peel the bandage tape from the spool. It didn’t help his focus with Meticulous was still watching his movements rather closely.

As his hands drew close to Meticulous’ stomach again, Keith was mentally chanting _don’t fuck up,_ don't fuck up to himself. It didn’t do much but he continued to anyways. Meticulous’ father was a surgeon, he should have seen by now how incompetent Keith was for this, but still he said nothing as Keith leaned forward to start wrapping the bandage.

“Hey,” Meticulous began hesitantly when the bandage was only a centimeter away. Keith paused. “Sorry if this, like, kills your focus or something, but do you mind if I talk or something? That stuff makes my head a bit cloudy and I don’t want to fall asleep when you’re trying to do all this jazz.” He gestured to the gauze still in Keith’s other hand. “You don’t have to if you don’t want but it’d kind of help. I’ll even just blab random shit to you the entire time,” he added quickly.

Keith shrugged and pressed the end of the tape down. Meticulous winced. “Sorry,” he muttered. Meticulous waved it off but now that it had brought it up, the hero was looking a bit drowsy. “So,” Keith said awkwardly. They were both a bit surprised that Keith was the one initiating the conversation but there was no way to back out of this now. He stared at the bandage a bit more intensely than probably necessary and continued. “You said your dad’s a surgeon. Uh that’s cool. What about your mom, is she around?” Keith winced, hoping that he hadn’t offended Meticulous with the wording.

Meticulous’ eyes cleared a bit and he smiled happily. “Yeah! My mama is incredible. I may be the one running around the city at night in a mask, but she’s more of a superhero than I am to be honest. My dad can’t be around as often because of work and I’ve got five siblings and Ve– my sister’s kids are always around and they’re five and three, so it’s a bit busy around with just her managing the house but it all works out.” He paused to take a breath but was still beaming. Though it was hardly any information, there was such fondness and admiration in his voice that it was hard for Keith to keep focus on the bandages as he continued on.

“That’s kind of why I joined the team,” Meticulous was saying softly when Keith was sure enough that he’d be able to focus on what he was saying without majorly fucking up. He was also looking towards the window now and playing with the fingers of one of his polyester gloves. “Especially with Phantom out here doing his shit along with the usual prodigies and Berefts causing inconveniences, I want to protect them. And Voltron is my family too now. Even if I can’t do it openly as I am out of costume, I want to feel like I’m doing _something_ , ya know?” He grinned blearily and sighed.

It was sweet, and it made Keith want to smile too, but there was also a pang of sadness in his chest. Having a large, loving family sounded nice. Keith could never fathom being surrounded by so much love and happiness and Meticulous was incredibly lucky for that sort of familiar relationship. He also clearly didn’t take any of that for granted.

“Shit, I didn’t mean for that to become a cheesy origin story monologue, sorry man,” Meticulous said, finally pausing after explaining each of his family members in as much detail as possible without giving up who they were entirely and expressing how much he loved them. “So what about you? You live with your freaking brother and his boyfriend so there’s probably _some_ tragic anime backstory here because I can’t even _think_ about doing something like that. No offense.”

Keith shrugged, waiting for Meticulous to push up from the bed so he could get the bandage around before answering. “There’s not much. Mom left when I was an infant, dad died when I was nine, was tossed around foster care for a bit until Shiro’s family adopted me. The end.”

They were quiet for a moment and then Meticulous said, “Oh.”

Keith waved it off, looking down to examine his work. It would have to do for now, and with his enhanced healing from the talisman and the ointment from Momentous, they wouldn’t have to be on for too long anyways. He grabbed the scissors laying on his desk. Usually he’d just rip with with his fingers or teeth, but that would be weird, especially with the pitying look he was getting from Meticulous right now.

“It’s really not a big deal,” he said, severing the tape with a single snip. His fingers hovered over the bandage for one more second before he quickly pulled back, pushing himself against the opposite side of the bed.

“Uh, thank you,” Meticulous muttered in the silence. Keith nodded.

They sat that way for another moment, and though he wasn’t the most highly perceptive person in the world, Keith could tell that there was something else that Meticulous wanted to say. “Spit it out, whatever you want to say,” Keith found himself saying bluntly, “you’re gaping like a fish.”

Meticulous smiled sheepishly and sighed. “Sorry you’re stuck here with me. I, uh, I know you’d rather be doing something else than patching up the city’s lamest superhero to ever exist,” he snorted self deprecatingly at that, “but thank you anyway.”

Keith didn’t say anything, because what the hell was he supposed to say to that? He let it drag on awkwardly until he got tired of the nagging voice in the back of his head telling him to _just say something_. “Sure, it’s fine really. I wasn’t really doing anything else tonight anyway. Do you want to sleep or something? It’s fine if you want to stay here until you’re healed enough or whatever. Just… Yeah.” _A master of eloquent words_ , Keith thought dryly, hoping that the messy jumble was understandable.

Meticulous smiled gratefully. “Yeah, thanks, that’d be nice. I can’t really move around that much at the moment and it’ll probably take a few more hours even with Momentous’ spooky healing stuff. They won’t miss me back at HQ anyway.”

Keith nodded but he didn’t miss the small frown. “I’ll get you something to wear that’s not blood soaked spandex if you’d like,” he said, not waiting for an answer and getting up to go to the dresser. “I don’t care if you want to keep your mask and face paint shit, for the identity protection bullshit or whatever but that disgusting thing is not stinking up my room.”

He tossed Meticulous one of the clean shirts that were haphazardly thrown into the drawer, laughing harshly when he saw which one it was. The universe had a rather cruel sense of humor. Keith had completely forgotten that he still had it, but he’d pulled out the Iron Maiden shirt he’d bought at Hot Topic when Phantom had first decided he wanted to kill him.

Meticulous didn’t seem to notice Keith’s animosity towards the shirt and was quickly peeling off his uniform. They both regarded it with disgust and Meticulous held it out. “You want it?” he asked teasingly, raising his eyebrows. “I heard that fans love to catch their hero’s shirt. Even more so when it’s all torn and bloody.”

“Yeah, I bet that they do but I think I’ll pass,” Keith replied. But that thing _really_ needed to get out of here. His eyes roamed the small room before landing on the empty grocery bag. “Here,” he said, holding it out, “put it in this. Most of the blood should come out if I wash it with some water in the sink easily, but I’d rather you not get blood everywhere in the future.”

With a shrug Meticulous tossed it in the bag and Keith immediately turned and speed walked into the kitchen. Hopefully Shiro and Matt were sleeping hard enough so they wouldn’t wake up and walk in to see him hunched over the sink scrubbing blood out of a superhero costume. Wouldn’t that be a lovely conversation to have.

Keith let out a quiet sigh of relief when he took another quick peek into the living room. With everything that had happened tonight, it was a miracle that they hadn’t woken up yet. Which meant the universe was waiting for the worst possible moment for them to do so.

Maybe he was a bit paranoid about the universe and maybe even more paranoid that it had some fucked up agenda to make him suffer as much as possible, but really he couldn’t be blamed for it too much. There was still the possibility it was just being in the wrong place at the wrong time a few times, but with that many Keith was sure the universe was just out to get him. Sure, he had Shiro, the best brother that he could ever ask for, and he was living in a nice apartment in the city, he had a job, but that still didn’t entirely balance out his incessant streak of bad luck.

Whether it be about something minor and petty or something consequential, there would always be something that came along and messed it all up. His ice cream was melted when he pulled in out of the freezer. His mother left and he wasn’t sure if she was dead, if she had a good reason, if she simply just didn’t want the hassle of raising him. He got a 50% your entire purchase coupon the day after he spent $80 at the store. The amusement park ride closed down right as he got to the front of the line. One of the city’s biggest prodigy-related threats that was trying to kill him also happened to be one of the few friend he’d ever had in his life. And now, his brother would walk into the kitchen while he tried to cleanse a superhero suit of blood and listen to him freak out and jump to conclusions.

Keith turned on the faucet. He let the water run over his fingers until it was icy cold and dumped in the blue wad of fabric. The blood was already beginning to seep out thankfully, though he hesitated when going to pick it up and turn it over. It still had blood all over it. And not his blood either, which made it more disgusting. After a quick searching of their kitchen– which was pretty sparse other than the bowl of oranges sitting out on the countertop because Shiro had washed all the dishes earlier and there were no more paper towels– Keith ended up just using a non bloody part of the plastic bag.

Right as he was finishing up there were footsteps coming towards the kitchen. He froze, looking around frantically for a way to hide what he was doing. Of course he’d jinxed it, this was a dumb idea, he should’ve just let Meticulous wear the disgusting suit and not have washed it in his goddamn kitchen when Shiro and Matt were sleeping only ten feet away–

“Keith? What’re you doing up this early?”

He spun around to see Matt in the doorframe, rubbing at his eyes and only half awake. It only slightly relieved him. It wasn’t Shiro, but he’d completely forgotten that Matt always woke up at four to get to work. Damn, was it really already four?

It took a moment for Keith to remember to answer. He shrugged nonchalantly. “Couldn’t sleep,” he said, hoping that Matt wasn’t awake enough to see that Keith was actually exhausted. There were probably bags under his eyes, the sink behind him was still running, and he looked like he was going to fall asleep where he stood if he weren’t talking to Matt. Keith took another deep breath. “Uh, I can get you some coffee while I’m in here so you can get dressed or whatever,” he said to the ground, forcing his hands to stay still.

“Really?” Matt asked. “That’d be awesome thanks.” And with that, he turned and shuffled back out of the room.

Keith slouched in relief. He grabbed Matt’s Darth Vader mug from the cabinet, poured coffee into it, and turned back to turn off the sink. As he looked down at Meticulous’ costume though, his body went rigid again. Meticulous was still in his room. The door was open. Matt would be passing by it on the way to his room. “ _Shit,_ ” Keith said aloud. No longer caring about the blood and grossness of it, he picked up the costume, wringed out the water, shoved it into the plastic bag and half ran out to catch up with Matt.

The universe must have taken pity on him again, as Matt hadn’t gone into the hall yet and was just standing up from kissing Shiro’s forehead. Keith darted towards his room while Matt was still distracted and brushing Shiro’s bangs from his face.

If he had tried to run up and intercept when Matt was already in the hall leading to their bedrooms, he would see the plastic bag, ask what was in it, look anyway because he could be a bit nosy, and probably recognize Meticulous’ suit. He _did_ work for Voltron, he probably knew every little detail about each member’s costume, and Keith did _not_ need Matt trying to figure out why he was in the kitchen washing Meticulous’ superhero costume and then walk by and see Meticulous lying on Keith’s bed wearing his clothes.

When he finally made it back to his room, Keith ran in and practically slammed the door behind him. His heart seemed ready to explode from his chest from anxiety and it took a minute to compose himself enough to look up at Meticulous again. It had been close, way too close, given how his door was not just ajar, but fully open making it impossible not to notice Meticulous peacefully dozing.

He woke up at Keith’s boisterous reentry and blinked sleep from his eyes. “You good man?” the hero asked, scooting over so Keith could sit down.

Keith nodded and leaned back into the piled up blankets. “Matt’s up,” he said with a sigh.

“Oh.”

They sat in silence again. Keith mentally braced himself and spoke again, “You can go or whatever if you’d like now, if you’ve healed enough, but I’m going to sleep. Your suit’s in the bag. Most of the blood is out i think but it’s still pretty wet so you’ll probably get a cold if you try to put it on.”

He didn’t wait for a reply before curling up on the other end of the bed and closing his eyes. This was about the same time that he usually went to sleep but Keith still felt exhausted. As Keith’s brain began to succumb to sleep he felt one of the blankets gently tossed over him.

* * *

When he woke up five hours later, Meticulous had left. The window was open, and something on his pillow gleamed in the sunlight that poured through. Keith’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he crawled over the blankets, most of which being neatly straightened and pulled up to the pillow, and towards the object.

Keith recognized the glittery blue heart sticker on the corner of the sticky note as what had caught the light. Above it was a neatly scrawled note from Meticulous.

_Thanks for letting me stay here for a bit. See you around mullet boy I’ve got to head out, work calls :)  
—Your FAVORITE superhero ;)_

He rolled his eyes but put the note under a stack of papers on the desk. Though he’d insulted his hair again and had an insufferable personality, it was solid, physical evidence that he was in contact with an actual, real life superhero.

That was what Keith tried convincing himself he saved it for. Not because though he had friends now that actually made an effort to do things with him outside of school or work– did Pidge’s friends putting up with him sometimes count as friendship? Whatever, it didn’t matter, Keith was going to count it as one– this was a reminder that someone tolerated him enough– cared enough– to thank him for something, even if that was something like making sure they didn’t bleed to death.

Because there wasn’t anything else to do for awhile, Keith picked up his sketchbook and went into the living room. Though Shiro and Matt had left for work a while ago, the TV was still on. Keith settled in to the couch and sighed when he realized it was the news.

He picked up the remote to change the channel when the story switched. He nearly dropped it on his foot but probably wouldn’t have noticed if he did.

It was on the upcoming election for mayor, something Keith normally ignored, but the new runner was none other than Zachariah Evarik, infamous CEO of one of the largest international corporations to ever exist, and father of Lotor Evarik, the Phantom, which also made him Zarkon.

“Fucking hell,” Keith muttered. He suddenly regretted his disregard for politics as a video of the Evariks standing in front of a podium. Lotor stood confidently behind his father beside his campaign partner, Sendak. If only he’d been paying attention when Shiro flicked on the TV, he’d have known that Lotor was back for months now, but he was too busy scowling every time he saw Zachariah Evarik’s face on screen. He was a bigot with prejudiced beliefs, he was too busy trying to make the economy prosper to care much about the city or its citizens, and worst of all, a corrupt politician.

Keith wondered if Lotor was the exact same way now.

He spent the next few hours glaring at his sketchbook and half watching everything that ran on TV. It was surprising how many good shows were on at noon on a Tuesday– excluding Toddlers and Tiaras, he was getting sick of poofy haired white ladies with obnoxious accents trying to make their seven year old daughters look ‘sexy’ but it was TLC so what the fuck did he expect– and Keith would’ve appreciate it greatly if he weren’t busy reanalyzing every single pathetic moment of his life.

Since when had prodigies become such a big thing in his life?

Nearly every time he left the apartment for the past few weeks, prodigies were trying to kill him. The prodigy sending prodigies after Keith also happened to be one of the few friends he’d made in his time in foster care and was currently sending even more prodigies to kill him because he– rightfully– believed Keith to have a powerful talisman that spiritually attached itself to a prodigy (until _death_ , might he add) that made them an even more important prodigy in the world of prodigy bullshit. That meant he was also a prodigy (not that his powers would decide to start working any time soon though). Because of these attacks, one of the biggest, most elite prodigy superheroes in the city was his night time babysitter. This prodigy also had one of the talismans and was a part of a prodigy organization that Keith would be expected to enjoy because he had one of their talismans. His brother’s boyfriend secretly worked as a scientist for this prodigy organization.

Prodigies and prodigy drama. That’s all his life was now.

Keith groaned and let the graphite tip of his pencil snap off and crumble onto the paper in a messy pile. He didn’t even bother to be carefull sweeping it off, it wasn’t a very good art day for him anyway, and shut his sketchbook, tossing it on the other side of the couch. When he turned to entirely face the TV though, Keith found his thoughts straying to somewhere other than Janet’s crisis of finding a dress that was not too revealing for her mother to look at for a few hours.

Normally he loved to shit on the tyrannical parents on Say Yes To The Dress, but instead his focus was on the coin glinting mockingly in the sunlight as it hung on the piece of string around his neck. Keith couldn’t even remember when or where it came from, just that it had always been there. Perhaps it had been his mother?

Now that he really studied the coin, it was painfully obvious that it was not a normal one, and also a talisman of Voltron. The ornate swirls in the metal vaguely formed a lion in mid roar, mane spreading to the sides, and in the place of eyes there were two red rubies. Maybe he’d picked it up from a flea market or antique shop sometime when his dad was still around, it had the right look to it.

All that Keith was entirely sure about was that it had always been with him, in every single memory. Over the years it had become a crutch, something to fidget with when he was anxious or stressed. With his newfound knowledge of what the coin truly was, Keith felt confused but also relieved. He was suddenly able to eavesdrop on his brother’s conversations because the talisman’s ability enhancement was starting to manifest. The reason that he’d always been touchy about never taking the necklace off wasn’t just being sentimental, rather the talisman’s merging with his soul or whatever. When he showered, or got covered in paint, flour, or whatever else, the coin always stayed pristine. Every time he got in a fight it got warmer against his chest because he was activating the powers of the talisman.

Keith’s thoughts were cut abruptly when the door swung open and Matt sauntered in. The man snorted when he looked at the TV where Janet and her mom were now crying and hugging each other then turned to face Keith. He was still in his work clothes, a long white lab coat and black slacks, and there was a pencil stuck in his messy hair.

“Hey? Uh don’t you get off at like six” Keith said, brows furrowed. He turned to face Matt, who was power walking over towards the couch. “It’s only noon?”

“‘Sup Keith, get your shoes on. Sorry to cut your trashy TV marathon short but I’ve got to get back to work and Momentous only let us go for half an hour,” Matt said, leaving no room for argument. When Keith just stared at him, Matt sighed, tapping at the large bronze watch sitting on his wrist.

Keith rolled his eyes but got up to get his shoes from where he’d kicked them off in the hallway. “Us?” he asked.

A man with bright red hair and impossibly large handlebar mustache stepped into the doorframe and waved. “Hullo there! I’m Coran, I assist Momentous in leading Voltron. I’m afraid that Mr. Holt is right, we really must go.”

“Where?” Keith had a feeling he knew exactly where, but he asked anyways.

Coran grinned widely. “Today we’re solving the enigma of your immunity to the Phantom’s powers and discussing the mission of Voltron. We can’t have the wielder of the red talisman out here completely uninformed and inactive, my boy!” Keith winced but Coran continued on, turning back out the door when he confirmed that Keith’s shoes were on his feet. “We’ll be visiting Headquarters, Momentous awaits your arrival.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted more than once this month I'm so proud. I wanted to get nine written too which didn't happen but I had another project to work on ((cough if you like pjo/hoo that'll be posted sometime in august)) and had a period of hating my work so much that I couldn't write lmao. This story is a mess and I'm not sure why anyone's still reading but thank you anyway, it means a lot. I legit feel like crying whenever I get a kudos or comment.
> 
> ALSO. VOLTRON RELATED. Can you believe that Voltron will be over after S8 akfjdosjf. also shiro. I'm so proud of shiro. that's the rep I need as a queer Asian with mental health issues. Feel free to scream about all this with me in the comments or on [tumblr](http://adverbialstarlight.tumblr.com) lol.
> 
> I realize this is long and no one is reading anymore but thanks, have a nice day/night/whatever.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy season 7! I was aggressively trying to finish this before it came out, hence why it's like half the length of the last chapter (,,,sorry) but there's more of the team and some clarification of things so that's cool anyway enjoy, sorry for any typos most of this was written in sleep deprivation and on my phone

Keith’s father didn’t like talking about his former wife, Keith’s mother, when he was still alive. He’d always look at the boy with an impossibly foreign sadness whenever Keith got the nerve to ask about it. Usually that’d be on Keith’s birthday or on the third of August, which he’d once revealed as the day that they had first met. That and the fact that she just ‘couldn’t stay any longer’ was the most that his father ever said directly. On that day his father would drive out to the middle of the desert and they sat in silence for the entire day before turning back and proceeding like nothing had happened.

After a while, Keith stopped asking. It was clear he’d never gain anything from it. But he didn’t stop observing, his father’s actions spoke rather loudly. As did the pictures in his wallet. And his unconscious muttering whenever he fell asleep after drinking a beer.

She liked to help people.

That was the strongest, most consistent thing that Keith collected about his mother. From the way that his father smiled bittersweetly as he tossed dollar bills into bright buckets during the winter and insisted that they drop off books from the basement to the library. How he sometimes ended up driving towards the shelter a few minutes away on Friday mornings instead of Keith’s school, muttering about how _she would be angry that we missed the eight o’clock soup shift_ and slamming on the brakes when he realized that his wife was not with him in the passenger seat, instead just his small, confused son looking back where they’d missed the elementary school parking lot.

Keith honestly didn’t know what he was expecting, but whatever that might’ve been it was not this.

On the outside, the Voltron Headquarters looked just like one of those orphanages or shelters that his mother would work with. Like one of the places that Keith had been in for a short while. It was in the same neighborhood as he’d been stupid enough to go walking around in only twelve or so hours earlier, putting him on edge, but it also meant that this was the address he’d been following the book to.

For a minute Keith didn’t move from his seat, just stared at the building, unmoving. Matt had wasted no time getting out of Coran’s minivan‒ yes, Batman had the Batmobile, but Voltron had a sunflower yellow minivan. It didn’t seem overly discreet in Keith’s eyes, but it hadn’t gained any attention as they drove here ‒ and headed through the boarded up doors, muttering something about preparing the lab for tests.

The door was pulled open and a large hand appeared on Keith’s shoulder a moment later. In his surprise the boy didn’t shrug it off and instead looked up at Coran, who was smiling reassuringly as he leaned into the car. “Don’t worry, my boy, this is only an exterior. You’ll find it rather comfortable once we’re inside.”

Keith nodded slowly and unbuckled his seatbelt. Before he could step out, a burgundy bundle of fabric was pushed into his arms. After unfolding it Keith observed that it was a jacket of faux leather with black accent, an atrocious number of inside pockets and an equally atrocious in size hood attached. It was beautiful, though he didn’t understand why Coran had given it to him. Was his shirt offensive to prodigies? There wasn’t anything printed on it, just a plain v-neck from Target, and being one of the few shirts that were clean at the moment there were no stains, but maybe it was against the dress code here. He was never around professional world-saving prodigies until Meticulous, and part of the main Cadre of Voltron or not he hardly counted. Keith tilted his head slightly in question.

“Think of it as a gift to welcome you to the team,” Coran explained, waving encouragingly for Keith to put it on. Though he appreciated it, Keith couldn’t help but cringe at the words _welcome you to the team_ , like they already knew that he’d accept. He pushed away that thought and slid into the jacket. It fit surprisingly well, as if it were custom tailored for him‒ though Keith wouldn’t have been surprised in the slightest if they’d somehow managed to do that.

Coran beamed. “Excellent. You’ll also have to put your hood up. Our members are trustworthy though we prefer everyone to not know of our main cadre’s identities. Now come along, there is work to be done and you have to meet your other teammates!” With that, the hood was pushed over Keith’s head and he was being pulled into the building.

Keith wasn’t entirely sure how much a hood that went over his face a little bit would conceal his mundane identity, at least the others had a mask too, but when they stepped out of the creaky elevator and into the warm, modern looking lobby of Voltron Headquarters, he was grateful for it. The shadow cast over his face obscured the stupid shocked expression he wore, and, more importantly, it helped deflect the stares of the fifteen or so people standing around in the room.

They all began murmuring and brazenly pointed or stared at the two as Coran led Keith through to another door, though the older man seemed unaware of the attention. Unfortunately given how most of the people in here could easily overpower and kill him, red talisman or not, and his already constant anxiety, it was not as simple for Keith to do. His shoulders remained tense, arms crossed, and eyes downcast as Coran led them through the main lobby and down a wide, sterile white hallway.

As the seconds dragged on, Keith watched Coran pause and nod to different people a few times, and realized that he did this every day, he had gained the trust and respect of these people, he probably knew each one by their first name and what the name of their cat was. Keith had none of this. Every time they paused, he could only awkwardly stand off to the side feeling useless and already criticized by everyone here.

Some of the prodigies stood in street clothes with a mask or hood similar to Keith’s. Others were in uniform and easily recognizable as past vigilante-esque prodigies that had been around helping Voltron as heroes in the public eye before the Cadre had formed. The later seemed to recognize Keith as well, some greeting him as the Red Paladin.

It was an odd title, as if he were a knight serving a queen rather than being a random Bereft whose soul had gotten bound to the Red Talisman of Voltron and now had to become its wielder, but they had to call it _something_ until he was forced into spandex with a stupid sounding comic book hero name.

Keith’s scowl continued to deepen the longer they walked. He couldn’t handle a people watching him walk into HQ, he knew none of these people and yet Momentous expected him to just accept one of the highest positions within Voltron? Damned talismans and their poor judgment on who should wield it. He should probably do them all a favor, let Matt and his team run their experiments and refuse to join the cadre, as the central team seemed to be dubbed by the organization.

“Here we are,” Coran finally announced, stopping before one of the doors at the end of the hall. It looked like a standard steel door that you'd maybe find as an employee exit in the back of a store, not the door into the room with the city’s most powerful, famed prodigies.

The door towards whatever Keith's future would be.

He wasn’t stupid enough to think that maybe they were going to do the testing first, giving him an opportunity to slip out of HQ before he had to see the Cadre of Voltron, not when Coran had brought him to such a secluded, secure wing of the building. They had passed several prodigies in navy uniforms embroidered with the V shaped emblem of Voltron who had stopped Keith and Coran to verify that they were allowed through. They had greeted Coran familiarly but he still had to go through small tests that confirmed his identity despite the numerous locks on each door being there anyway. Essential research or not, a science lab wouldn’t have _that_ much security, but the Cadre exclusive wing of HQ would.

Coran took Keith’s silence as nerves and patted him on the back again. “You’ll be alright, don’t you worry,” he declared. “Your new teammates are lovely.” Before Keith could even open his mouth, he knocked on the door and it was swinging open to reveal Momentous in her usual white cloak, though this time her feet were also in magenta cat slippers and her staff was nowhere in sight.

“This is where I leave you,” Coran said with a kind smile. “Mr. Holt will come get you when you’ve finished. Now off you go!” With that, Keith was pushed past Momentous and the door was sealed closed again.

Keith froze as he took in his surroundings.

The Cadre of Voltron had a surprisingly mediocre looking base. There was a modern gray couch in the middle of the windowless room where four other masked, kitten slippered, and curious prodigies sat. Three of the walls were plastered with an assortment of mundane things– posters, newspaper articles, pictures, a bookshelf. The fourth was taken up by a large screen that currently had a GIF of the words ‘ _welcome red paladin!_ ’ spinning around surrounded by digital confetti. There were small things clearly belonging to different heroes spread throughout the room on the ground and on desks and furnisher– a computer with three monitors, mirrors and fire blankets, a haphazardly set up foam target with six arrows sticking out of it, a small Bluetooth speaker. A hallway in the corner lead out of the large room that Keith assumed ran through the rest of the wing into different rooms.

“Hello!” Flare called over to Momentous and Keith. He startled a bit, eyes now focusing on the large muscular man in bumblebee yellow athletic spandex running towards him. “I’m Flare, you must be the guy Momentous was talking about, the chosen wielder of the Red Talisman?”

Keith waved awkwardly, not moving from his place. “Uh, yeah, hi.”

Meticulous jumped up as well, strolling over with a grin. Keith froze. Coran said that he’d be unrecognizable in this, which sounded like complete bullshit in all honesty but Keith was praying to the universe that it would work right now anyway. What would he do if Meticulous recognized him? There would be no way that Keith would be able to do this. There were only two ways that this could go if Keith joined Voltron; either the universe would tell him to go fuck himself and Meticulous would recognize him and everyone would know his identity– something that would be incredibly dangerous especially if another prodigy got digging around one of the hero’s mind for their teammates’ identities or it was tortured out of him– or the stupid hood really did hide his face well enough and he’d have to evade Meticulous when he came by for his nightly guarding then get back there before him. Basically, this was a lose-lose situation, but Keith didn’t seem to have much of a choice.

“Hey, the name’s Meticulous,” he announced. When Keith said nothing, Meticulous squinted. “What? Okay, I see how it is.” He crossed his arms and turned away. Keith didn’t try to be subtle when he rolled his eyes. No matter if he was Keith, or the wielder of the Red Talisman in Voltron, or anything else, Meticulous would just try to antagonize him just after a few moments it seemed.

Scythe stepped forward, arms crossed and looking sternly at Meticulous. “Be nice, he’s your teammate now, might I remind you.”

“Uh, I never officially agreed to that,” Keith piped up as Meticulous muttered a sarcastic, “Sorry, dad.”

Scythe sighed, long and exasperated. “Sorry about him,” he said with an apologetic smile towards Keith. “I'm Scythe, I guess with the black talisman I'm the sub-leader of Voltron, but it's just the cadre mostly. It's great to have you.”

Keith relaxed a bit at Scythe's confident words and shook his hand. I“Uh, it’s fine. Thanks. Hi.” He stared down at the ground and if Scythe weren’t technically his new boss, Keith would probably laugh at the felt black kitten slippers on the prodigy’s feet.

Pigeon finally looked up from their tablet and fixed their gaze on Keith. He squirmed a bit more. He was probably a foot taller than the hero, but the stare he was receiving was mildly terrifying. Not that he’d let them see that though. Keith held their analyzing gaze until Pigeon shrugged and looked back down to their tablet. It was an oddly familiar gesture and Keith was hit with a wave of deja vu. It was something that Pidge would do when they were feeling nosy whenever she and Keith hung out together as kids when Matt and Shiro didn’t want to hang out with them.

Keith shook his head a bit. That wouldn’t make sense if Pidge were here, he was just being paranoid and looking for something familiar. So far, that only came in the form of Meticulous.

“So what’s your power, then?” Pigeon asked. “How’d you activate the talisman? Does it have any cool exclusive abilities? Have your eyes changed yet? It only takes like twenty hours for your eyes to start changing you know. And your talisman– what’s its weapon state? All ours have a weapon form for combative and safety purposes.”

“Um.” Keith was not prepared for the onslaught of questions from Pigeon, though being some sort of analytical genius he probably should’ve expected it. But how was he supposed to answer that? _I almost got the shit beaten out of me by some kid when I was being stupid walking around at three in the morning in a shitty neighborhood while out getting supplies to stop your teammate from bleeding to death?_

Luckily Momentous saved him this time.

“We’ve more pressing matters to discuss than our new member’s abilities, I’m afraid,” she said apologetically, squeezing Pigeon’s hand quickly before walking up to the screen and powering it on.

Meticulous sighed and slouched into the couch. Pigeon glared when he decided to put one of his arms on top of their head. “ _Ugh_ , do we ever get a break? What happened now?” he said.

“You know, Meticulous, considering how deeply you’ve been involved in this particular… issue, I think it’s best you care a bit more about this,” Momentous replied sharply. Meticulous sat up at this. “Thank you. As I was saying, there is something rather odd happening right now. Prodigies have been going missing and reappearing under the control of Phantom, and after the events of last night with Meticulous we know that Galra is back.

“The poison on the blade was identical to the signature formula used by Galra. We are lucky that Meticulous survived, but we must notify everyone immediately and prepare extra anecdotes. I believe that the two might be connected.”

“Wait, wait,” Flare cut in. “ _Galra?_ As in, crazy prodigy group that completely annihilated Altea, Galra? I thought they were gone! We’re not fighting Galra are we? _Oh my god_ you’re going to make us fight Galra are you?”

Meticulous and Pigeon were immediately patting Flare on the arm, muttering reassurances like the good teammates that they were but Keith knew they didn’t seem too sure either. Keith knew that they had no more information about the group than he did, just that they were a radical, gang-like prodigy organization that went underground years ago. They were scared, and he had a feeling that he should be too.

Momentous nodded solemnly. “I’m afraid we might. Keith brought it to our attention that Phantom is–”

“Wait, Keith?” Meticulous interrupted. Keith stiffened where he stood a bit away from the group but Momentous just gave him an exasperated glare not unlike the ones Keith would receive from Shiro every time he got a call because the boy punched another kid for whatever reason in middle school. “Like, terrible hair, 2008-esque emo Keith– who I’m still having to fucking babysit by the way– _that_ Keith?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Momentous said through gritted teeth. “Now, if you would kindly let me _finish_ , that would be lovely.” Meticulous sunk into the couch and gave a small apology. “Thank you. Keith was able to find out through certain– certain circumstances the identity of Phantom.” Meticulous looked ready to say something again but slammed his jaw shut when Pigeon gave him their own glare. “As it is Lotor Evarik, we can connect Phantom to Galra through his father Zachariah Evarik– who was the leader of Galra under the alias Zarkon. He was good friends with my father once– that is until he killed off him and all the rest of the Altea agents.”

Momentous’ eyes drifted away from the screen she had presenting information on and somewhere much farther away, a place of grief and bittersweet reminiscence. It was a place that Keith knew a bit better than he wanted to admit.

Scythe seemed to stiffen as well but Keith wasn’t able to dwell on it because then Pigeon was there, taking Momentous’ hands in theirs, pressing their lips to their joint hands and promising quietly, “Don't worry, we're gonna kick those damned Galran's asses, just you wait babe.”

Flare and Meticulous cooed but Scythe, who had been silent most of the meeting, said, “So these missing prodigies. Nearly every single one of them turns up a few days later under whatever Phantom is doing to them and comes to attack either Keith, a large crowded area, or both, correct?”

Pigeon snorted at that but smiled affection lately when they said, “Yeah, that kid seems to get into more shit than you used to, I can hardly believe it.”

It was a bit unnerving for Keith being talked about like he wasn't in the room, though technically only he and Momentous really knew that it was him. In here he was the wielder of the red talisman, the latest member of the Cadre and completely unaffiliated with Keith. If any of the others knew him in the mundane world and caught on that he was standing here, things would get even messier than they were already going to end up being.

Momentous ignored Pigeon's small comment and faced Scythe. “Yes, Holt and his team have been IDing each prodigy brought in and each match up with a recent disappearance of a powerful unaffiliated prodigy. Like the one Meticulous was against last night, all tangible weapon holders were equipped with Galra poison. The poison only affects prodigies, of course, but we still must be cautious.”

“Alright, so what’s the plan?”

“First we’ve got to get our new teammate situated in,” Flare cut in. “I mean obviously we can’t just call him by his normal name, and _Red Talisman Wielder_ would just be long and weird, so we’ve got to get him a cool name! What’s your power? It should probably be something related to that; like I’m Flare because I can do this–” he manifested a small sphere of light and swatted it out, “–pigeons are super smart and can do math and stuff so that’s why they’re Pigeon, Meticulous’ psychokinesis makes like all of his shots perfect and meticulous so that’s why that’s his name, Scythe can reap tangible abilities for a little bit and use them, et cetera, et cetera.”

Keith startled with the group’s attention suddenly shifted back to him– the Keith now standing in the room with a ridiculous hood that would supposedly keep them from knowing he was Keith.

Flare’s smile was warm when their eyes met, but Keith couldn’t help feeling even more pressured. “I, uh, I don’t know,” he mumbled with a shrug, fighting back a grimace.

“What do you mean you don’t know? I mean, you can’t be a Bereft, the talisman has to have some sort of energy thing to connect to,” Meticulous asked. His mask was still on, but Keith could still see when his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“That’s a bit complicated at the moment,” Momentous said hastily. “Let’s not focus too much on that aspect for now. I do agree with you, Flare, our new teammate must start to grow into Voltron immediately if we wish to be prepared against Galra soon.”

Scythe nodded. “Alright then, what can you do then, if your powers are dormant? You do any sports? Martial arts? Something?”

Keith shrugged again and crossed his arms a bit tighter. “I used to take boxing when I was younger if that counts for anything? Took some fencing for a bit too so I have a little bit in sword combat I guess.”

“Excellent,” Momentous beamed. “We will be doing quite a bit of team training but you are welcome to individually as well. Now that that is out of the way, we should properly introduce ourselves. Close bonds and trust among each other is an extraordinarily important part of Voltron, especially for those with one of the five talismans, as your souls and energies must be able to work harmoniously in order to call forth the spirit and energy of Voltron. I believe familiarizing yourselves with each other would be a good first step towards that.”

Meticulous, Flare, and Pigeon exchanged a glance before Pigeon finally shrugged and pushed up from the couch. “I'm Pigeon,” they said and nodded to their teammates.

“I'm Flare, it's super cool to meet you,” Flare said, shaking Keith’s hand.

“Meticulous,” the last cadre member said tersely. And then he grabbed Keith’s hand and yanked it, a poor imitation Flare’s proper handshake. He dropped it not even a moment later, but Keith was surprised to find that it was actually pretty soft considering the fact that his fighting style of choice was archery. Completely useless and irrelevant information, Keith reminded himself quickly.

Momentous smiled in satisfaction. “Now that we’ve all been properly acquainted, you must build intra team trust. As we cannot give our new teammate an alias until Holt’s team runs tests later on to test his abilities and potentially find what his gift is, we will begin with a silent exercise that requires more intuitive and physical communication than verbal. To the training room.”

She spun on her heel and strode towards the hallway, leaving the rest of them to scramble after. The other four prodigies followed immediately but Keith hesitated. He watched them fade into the hallway with a frown and tugged at the bottom of his jacket. It was cropped, stopping right at his waist, definitely not something that would have been Keith’s first choice, but it was a tangible reminder of what was happening.

He’d been chosen by one of the talismans to become apart of the Cadre of Voltron, the most elite group of superheroes in the city. _He_ would soon have to become a superhero and help protect the city from Phantom and the newly reawakened Galra. Keith had a responsibility now, falling off the grid until things blew over wasn’t an option anymore, and the first step to fulfilling that responsibility was to participate in team building with the cadre and Momentous. Whatever that meant.

But it wouldn’t be too terrible, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I hope this chapter was ok, again sorry about the length now let's get into some relevant panic. I am terrified for after season 8. Everyone in the fandom will up and leave and I'm not sure I'll be able to finish this fic before the fandom dies and so I'll be beating a pathetic, very much irrelevant and dead horse so that sucks and threw me into a panic attack later. I hope that a few of you will still be around a few months later though because I've really enjoyed writing this and have so many VLD WIPs to finish and post though some are coming sooner than later because I decided to get off my ass and join a few events
> 
> Sorry that was kind of emo but until next time I guess, have a great day/night/whatever bye
> 
> P.S. literally just realized I've subconsciously matched a few of the colors and powers from the darkest minds trilogy by alexandra bracken– namely blue and psychokinesis and green and hyperintelligence– yikes that was purely coincidental darkest minds is one of my favorite dystopian era YA series but I didn't mean to do that (though Lance and Liam are v similar and Lotor is practically Clancey hey new au idea too bad voltron will be dead soon so it can't go anywhere asdkjfsn)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead but Keith might be by the end of this team bondingTM

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT IT'S BEEN A MINUTE. I lost some motivation for this story for a bit and have a lot of other vld stuff in the works rn (wink wink cute 10k ish klance fic coming october) (edit in october: it's 12k+ actually oop) that sort of had deadlines but hopefully this chapter is alright. I still love vld still writing this s7 did not scare me away entirely (except for the fact that the mfes got most of the season to that i say wtf) ANYWAY this is almost 5k long and updates should go back to my slightly less infrequent lmao enjoy

To say the least, Keith was _seriously_ regretting his life choices right now. Namely, the ones that lead up to him ending up in the hell that was the Voltron headquarters blindfolded and literally chained to the other four prodigies of Voltron.

Momentous’ idea of _team building_ was drastically different than his own; Keith had been hoping for something similar to beginning of the school year icebreaker games like tossing a stress ball and sharing your favorite genre of music or even basketball court pacman tag. Something low key and generic, the usual thing to do when launched into a new environment with a few strangers– mostly strangers anyway, but even if mundane Keith knew Meticulous fairly well, as the wielder of the red talisman the prodigy was just another new comrade to him.

But, because the universe seemed to enjoy Keith suffering and wanted to prolong it, Momentous’ first icebreaker was to shackle the Cadre of Voltron together by the wrists and climb through an odd jungle gym like obstacle course. It had been obnoxious, especially with how much Meticulous kept yanking on his wrist, telling Keith to _keep up, man_ , but now in their second team bonding activity, Keith found himself missing the rope burns and tight wrist cuffs.

This one was _so_ much worse.

For this, the Cadre of Voltron had to try to navigate some sort of invisible maze that would give off a series of extremely powerful electric shocks if one were to accidentally run into it. The only somewhat useful thing that came of that was that the wall glowed a faint teal every time someone made contact with it and buzz in a quick pattern exclusive to that wall and the map Pigeon was trying to make.

A large box like object was placed over their head, and inside was a screen projecting a large scale map of the maze. The rest of the sides were entirely dark so they could not see the rest of the Cadre and the Cadre could not see them. They also had a small orange object the size of a cell phone in their hand, each key raised slightly with a bump letting Pigeon identify its number.

When one of the others directly walked into one of the electrified walls, the unlucky prodigy had to fight through the pain of the shock and attempt to memorize the pattern so Pigeon could type it into the device and add it to the blank screen that would become their map.

They hadn't said anything, but Keith was pretty sure that the map was building up like a game of Hangman; every time they put in a combination of quick shocks, that entire wall would appear on the blank screen and eventually, when the team walked into enough walls, some semblance of an actual map would be formed and Pigeon could lead them to freedom. The base was two points representing the start and finish.

It shouldn't have been too difficult, excluding the fact that they each would have to endure a large number of shocks from the walls every few seconds so they could get a glimpse at the wall and avoid being stuck in there for the rest of the week.

Momentous had promised that the walls were _entirely harmless_ , but Keith couldn’t help but think that to be _entirely bullshit_ with the intensity of the shocks. Despite it only having been about fifteen minutes since they began, they’d all taken a fair amount of static from the walls already– just one per ran into wall would've been enough, really. 

From the first time Keith walked into a sharp, invisible, and electrified corner– only three minutes in– he was _completely_ over this whole exercise. He’d received twenty four now, and each seemed to wear his patience even thinner.

Each individual set of shocks was somewhat tolerable– it was multiple walls in quick succession and the blindsiding after-shock pain is what really sent his mind into a thick, useless fog. At first Keith thought that he would be able to handle it, the feeling was similar to one of going to school after getting only three hours of sleep, something that he’d done practically every day during high school. And then he stumbled over his feet and landed fully into one of the cursed walls. After that he knew not to be so stupid and prayed that the exit would come soon.

Scythe managed to keep his expression neutral and calm through the bandying of snarky insults and complaints being exchanged among his teammates– the most verbal of the group of course being Meticulous– and the walls sending large amounts of static through the fabric of his costume that probably hurt a _lot_ more than it was for Keith. The only sign of discomfort was the stiff and still set of his jaw and occasional twitching in his right eyebrow. He reminded Keith of Shiro, a picture of endless patience and maturity when internally he was probably being anything but.

Pigeon was doing their best to direct the team through the maze despite the team’s lousy description of their surroundings and Keith could sense they were glaring nastily under the cube, mainly towards Meticulous. His amount of participation wasn’t the issue– he was actually doing pretty well, suggesting ways to approach the exercise and touching the wall purposefully a few times to get a better idea of where they were. Rather, it was his continuous humming as they struggled through the maze. It was something that had been grating on Keith’s nerves for a while as well, but they couldn’t do anything about it or Meticulous would probably stop helping overall. Because he was actually being pretty helpful. _Immensely_ helpful, and no matter how irritating he could be at times, Keith was grateful for it.

Flare was currently swaying unsteadily, leaning heavily onto Meticulous’ shoulder. With the prodigy's larger frame and the narrow path of the maze, Flare had gotten the worst of the group as he continued to graze or entirely run into the walls. He’d gained some serious respect from Keith from the fact he was still even on his feet.

Meticulous patted Flare’s shoulder sympathetically and turned to Pigeon. “How much longer do we have in this thing?” he whined, flinching when his sleeve grazed an invisible wall.

Despite being blindfolded, Keith could tell when Pigeon rolled their eyes. “I don’t know, so be quiet. I think that's we're getting closer to the end though so– left when you can, somewhere over here– the quicker you run into a wall and give me a helpful estimate of our location the sooner we'll be able to get out of this hell hole.”

Though they couldn't see it, Meticulous made a face and stuck his tongue out at Pigeon but approximately ten seconds later, he did walk straight into a new wall. Keith snorted quietly as Meticulous yelped and sprung back into Flare, who nearly fell into another wall from the force of it. 

“Yikes, sorry man,” he told Flare before re crossing his arms. “Anyway, that one was like–” Meticulous paused and made several quick buzzing sounds. Pigeon let out an exasperated sigh, about to remark how very helpful imitating a bee was when really they needed the _pattern_ of the shocks but then Meticulous counted off a few fingers and added, “ _Two-three-one-six_ I think.”

Pigeon nodded and went silent, inputting the pattern.

“Forward,” they said, “we’re getting close to the exit point.”

It turned out that Pigeon’s definition of close was much different than the rest of the team’s. In the end it took them maybe fifteen more minutes before Meticulous stepped out of the invisible maze and all of the walls flickered into appearance, a teal glow illuminating each of the prodigies.

Meticulous spread out like a starfish on the ground, humming in satisfaction when no electric shocks came. “I am never moving from this floor,” he announced.

“Thank God,” Flare sighed in relief, rushing after his friend and collapsing on the floor.

Pigeon took off the box and put it into Momentous’ waiting hands. “ _Ugh_ , can we never do that again, please? Like ever?”

Keith just stood off awkwardly to the side, arms crossed. He felt guilty, all of the work was actually done by Meticulous, Pigeon, and Flare. And what had Keith done? Stupidly follow around in silence, hardly contributing to the activity. Even if it was playing babysitter, even Scythe had at least done _something_.

He sighed. So much for team building and connecting with the team.

As if Scythe could read his thoughts, he walked up and put a supportive hand on Keith’s shoulder and gave him a small smile. “You did well,” he said. “That might not have been the best exercise to immerse you into the team and Meticulous can be a bit… much, but I think that you handled it pretty well. You won’t regret joining the team, they’re great kids so give them a chance, yeah?”

Keith gave a half hearted shrug but was saved from having to reply when Momentous turned from where she was smiling fondly at Pigeon to address all of them.

“Well done Cadre,” she beamed. “Fortunately for Pigeon, this next activity will be a bit different than the maze.” The prodigies sighed in relief. “It’ll be something that you might be a bit more accustomed to, I’m sure. If you’ll follow Coran, please.”

Meticulous sighed loudly and sarcastically held up a hand like an elementary schooler. “How many of these will there be?” he asked, getting up and making his way to the waving man anyway.

Momentous ignored him and instead focused on getting Pigeon and Flare off of the floor. “This floor is rather dirty, perhaps you’d like to relocate? Our next activity is less strenuous so you can sit on a couch.” Her words were a kind suggestion, but Keith could clearly hear the edge in her voice that told them that it was not an option.

Flare and Pigeon picked up on this as well and scrambled to their feet. Pigeon smiled at Momentous before turning to join Meticulous and Coran, who was stull waving wildly as if he weren’t one of the only seven people in the room.

Glancing at Scythe, Keith started to walk over too, studying the smitten look on both Momentous and Pigeon’s faces. He’d think that Momentous would be the kind of person to discourage being in a relationship with a comrade in a work as grievous as this. And yet here she and Pigeon were anyway. Keith could tell how much they cared about each other, and as happy for them he was, his mind couldn’t help but drift somewhere more morbid and a tad bit nosy, though in his opinion they were entirely valid questions.

If something were to happen to one of them in battle– something more serious than the usual sustained injuries, something more like the dagger wound that Meticulous had gotten– how would the other react? Whenever Momentous had to come and fight alongside the Cadre like the day outside the library, did they work together directly? With the constant threat of danger and death, how did that affect their relationship? Did they know each other’s mundane identities? Well, Momentous obviously had to know Pigeon’s, being the leader of the Voltron Association, but did Pigeon know who Momentous was?

The group ended up back in the recreation room that they’d first been in. The hallway must’ve done some sort of loop, because Coran hadn’t led them back the way they’d come and still ended at the same door. Even just from that Keith was immensely confused, and knew that it would take maybe ten seconds to get lost in the labyrinth of this wing once their team bonding was over and he was one of the official Cadre members.

 _If_ he became an official member of the Cadre. Nothing was solid except the red talisman merging with his soul. There was still the opportunity to back out, Keith reminded himself, though he knew that was a complete lie. With Galra’s return and Lotor and him already being in the Voltron HQ attempting to bond with the team, it was way too late to pull out.

When the other prodigies had joined, there was a large public announcement and apparently some sort of ceremony in Headquarters. Meticulous had tried to make it sound like some sort of frat house initiation, but the more Keith heard and saw, the more he was convinced that once Matt uncovered whatever his ability was, he was forcibly joining a prodigy cult.

Momentous told them to sit in a circle on the rug, stern as a kindergarten teacher. Keith bit back a snort and complied, even crossing his legs so he was sitting criss-cross-applesauce– spoons were outside of the bow, though, because he moment Keith sat down she had handed him a box with five odd devices that vaguely resembles headbands with two small but sharp points that were turned inward towards where someone’s temples would be.

Keith didn’t want to think too hard about what was going to happen with those.

To his left sat Scythe, unwittingly sitting as an even more docile toddler than Keith was with his hands resting atop his knees and back straight as he waited for Momentous’ instructions. On his other side was Pigeon with their short legs stretched out towards Meticulous, who had ended up directly across from Keith, and was making odd faces at Flare.

“Alright, Cadre!” Momentous said, intercepting Pigeon and Flare’s odd silent communication when she came to stand in the center of the circle. “For this next activity we will be using these devices,” she motioned to the box and gave Keith a look that said _take one, I don’t have all afternoon_. He took one and passed the box to Scythe, frowning in concern as he studied the piece closer. “It assists your mind to manifest visuals, recreations of a tangible memory if you will, such as your favorite childhood toy or a specific species of butterfly.”

Pigeon perked up at this, scrutinizing their headband when the box was passed to them. “Sweet. How does the thing work?”

Momentous shifted on her feet. “I think it'd be best if you discuss that with Holt _after_ this activity. You… may not wish to participate otherwise.” She smiled awkwardly and waved a hand as if she had said that they were just fun hair accessories.

When they all hesitated, her gaze drew sharper and the prodigies fumbled and put them on.

Surprisingly, Keith was _not_ impaled by the spikes on the headband. They seemed to push inwards a bit, the point barely even piercing the surface of his skin. This made him no less skeptical, but he supposed that if Momentous planned to kill them she would’ve done so long ago and she needed abled superheroes to protect the city from Phantom and Galra.

And then Keith was spited by the universe yet again, because why wouldn’t he be.

The spikes drove themselves into his temple and let out something cool and tingly. Keith grunted at the suddenness, hand reaching up to touch his head. What the fuck?

He looked around and was secretly glad to see his teammates’ similar reactions. Meticulous had yelped and fallen backward, barely propping his elbow beneath him to keep from falling like a precarious Jenga stack. Pigeon had fallen backwards as well but didn’t make any move to sit up again, seemingly content with just lying flat on their back for the rest of this team bonding session or whatever it was. Flare and Scythe had both fallen forward, Flare groaned and gave Momentous the look of a kicked and scolded puppy dog.

Momentous didn’t look apologetic in the slightest as she held up a small console and said, “Apologies Cadre. This serum is required for activation. Fear not though, it will not be needed again for the rest of this, however these must not be removed.” She gave Keith a pointed look and though she couldn’t see it, Keith rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

“Now, if you all would please close your eyes, let us begin.” Momentous sat down in the gap between Meticulous and Pigeon, placing her hands on her knees. Keith glanced at her warily but Scythe gave him a look that said _you’re being ridiculous it’s not going to kill you_ and so he shut them.

“Alright, and relax. Release the tension from your shoulders, from your back. Complete concentration is required for this task.”

“Uh, no offense,” Flare cut in, probably raising his hand uncertainty. “This isn’t, like, yoga or something is it? We’re supposed to be building a team connection, but I don’t see how this is supposed to help with that…”

Meticulous snorted. “Yeah, I’m with him. What exactly are we doing?”

Momentous let out a short breath, sounding like a provoked bull ready to charge. “ _Brilliant question_ , Flare,” she said through gritted teeth. “If you would care to just listen, I was just about to explain.”

The two muttered apologies and Momentous was sildent a moment before she continued.

“As Flare said, this is about building a team connection. All of you are incredibly talented prodigies without any augmentation–” Keith snorted quietly at this part, “ –and though the talismans give you significant power, a group bond with all wielders and talismans is essential. We were unable to fully use the powers of the Talismans of Voltron previous to our new teammate arriving, but now with all five it is possible to achieve great things– including the defeat of Zarkon and Galra once and for all.

“You all must understand how important it is for you to be a team, a single unit. That is what will allow Voltron to reach its full potential. Now, think of something that quintessentially defines you, something that is a part of your identity. It does not have to be something tangible, these devices will help to manifest it. Make sure it is not too personal, such as a family member, but it can truly be anything, as long as it feels right. When you think of the right thing, hold the image of it in your mind and the rest shall be done for you. Hold your concentration on it.”

Keith sat there for a moment, thinking. What _quintessentially defined him_? The small dusty desert outside the small town where he had lived before going into foster care? The pork baozi he and his father always made at Christmas? His sketchbook? He sighed, frustration spiking. What thing represented his _soul_?

What were the others’ thing of choice? What if he chose something cheap and stupid while they all went deep, or the other way around? How much would it reveal of him?

After sitting in indecision for another few seconds, Keith decided _fuck it_ and let his mind empty, just as Momentous had told them to at the beginning. He didn’t let himself think, to question. And then suddenly, _yes_. He knew just what he was supposed to use for this.

He closed his eyes again and let his mind drift back into one of the earliest memories– and only memories with his mother– was from when he was maybe four years old. He was sitting on his mother’s lap– she was a tall, beautiful woman with a bright streak of magenta in the midst of her ebony hair, her strong arms holding Keith easily. Beside her sat Keith’s dad, a smile on his face and his eyes unburdened by the grief and the burden of raising a child that was a permanent shadow that had been present Keith’s entire life.

In small Keith’s hand was a small coin, the same one around his neck now, but it looked different. The coin was a bronze color more than copper, both sides smooth and completely mundane looking. The red talisman had not yet attached itself to the coin. Engraved in the back of it were the words _knowledge or death_.

Looking back, it was probably something that should not be given to a four year old– both because of the message and because of the choking hazard it posed. It was a shock that Keith hadn’t accidentally swallowed the coin and died.

The mantra was still engraved into the coin now, though on the once smooth backside there was also the lion of Voltron staring fiercely. Keith had never thought much of it.

He focused on the shape of the coin, the coolness of the metal and the familiar engravings on it.

And then the darkness of his eyelids faded and he could see the room again.

Well, sort of.

Keith’s eyes were still closed but he could see the rest of the Cadre around him as they were when they were open, though here there was a colored cloud of smoke in front of each them, forming items and ideas. The one in front of him was a smoky red, and in it was the coin as it was before the talisman. When he looked at it, he felt something like perplexion, of longing. _Odd_ , he thought.

Keith glanced at Scythe, and in his purple cloud there was a fan, the type that one might find in an East Asian history exhibit. Worry and self consciousness hit him this time, the true feelings of Scythe at this moment. He looked away quickly.

On his other side, Pigeon’s green smoke was shaped into what looked like a beaded anklet with a small spaceship tied on at the center. It held gaping loneliness that was so similar to his own that he looked away again.

Flare had a gold circlet of swirling metal before him, and within it there was both frustration and protectiveness. It was an odd combination, but Keith didn’t want to overstep and try to figure out what it meant. He didn’t feel comfortable looking into any of these, when Momentous had said that they would be seeing into each other's souls and coming together as one team that understood each other, Keith hadn’t realised just how deep she meant.

Before Meticulous was a royal blue hairpin, long and thin, shaping into intricate glass flowers at the end. It was the strangest artifact that Keith had seen so far and he couldn’t help wonder the story behind that one. He wasn’t sure _what_ he’d expected it to be, but this was not it. Inside the smoke there was ambition and, like Flare, a strong protectiveness, but the extent was almost suffocating. Like that was the sole thing in the world that mattered to him was protecting people.

He looked away.

Keith grimaced, realizing that they could also see the coin– and the feelings attached to it– and shrunk into himself self consciously. He didn’t like the idea of everyone looking in and seeing what his soul quintessentially boiled down down to, but he supposed that the others didn’t like it any more than he did.

“Good,” Momentous’ voice said somewhere far from him. It was like she was speaking from another plain of existence, it took on an even more regal and echoey sound, like a royal, and Keith felt himself straighten his posture. “By no surprise, you have all chosen your talismans, the objects in which they manifest this cycle of Voltron. Attached to each is your true inclinations about Voltron as a whole. This will not be shared outside of this room and were you to come across another’s talisman in the mundane world it would not be recognized, do not fear, though I would like you to take a moment and consider your teammates.

“Understanding each other’s true inclination is the backbone of trust and synchronization for Voltron, specifically in the less physical aspects. There is a spiritual, quintessential bond involved in this as well, it is not simply for fighting, and in order to build this bond you must know and trust each other.”

Keith stared at his hands, waiting for his deep musing about his teammates to come.

He supposed that starting with himself would be the easiest. Well, he was confused as fuck about what was happening, that much was easy to get. And he… wanted to know why? That seemed right, he didn’t know what was going and he wanted to understand why he was here, why the talisman chose him and he wanted to actually be a prodigy instead of Bereft so he wasn’t just a fraud.

 _Alright, too deep_ , he decided. It felt like he was doing an English class text analysis, something he really didn’t need right now. He moved on to the rest of the team.

Scythe was worried and unconfident in his abilities in leading Voltron because they were all so young nad he he didn't want to actually lead them to their demise when facing Galra.

Pigeon, they seemed to want to be able to connect with the team, to be able to maintain a good, solid relationship beyond just on the battlefield when they were needed.

Flare was a more difficult one. Keith looked into the armlet again. He felt protective of his family, of his friends and all the rest of the city. Keith understood that much, but the frustration that he felt, it made no sense. Perhaps he was undermined, or he was held to too high expectations. Maybe he just didn’t want to be here. The only way that Keith would know for sure though would to spend more time with him, something that was going to end up happening a lot in the future.

He watched as each symbol drifted towards the center of the circle, taking on a small glow. When they were almost to the center, the door opened loudly, breaking their concentration and pulling them out of the astral projection.

Matt stood in the door with a young woman with light blue hair, grinning and completely oblivious to the murderous look he was receiving from Momentous. She looked to Coran, who stood behind the scientists and shrugged.

“And time!” Matt said, walking in and plucking the headband off of Keith and ruffling his hair. Keith scowled. “Come, young padawan, it is time now for _science_.”

“Holt, is now _really_ the best time for–” Momentous began, exasperated.

Matt didn't let her finish. “Yup, it’s me and Plax’s turn. C’mon, Ke– small child of Voltron whom I do not know. Wink wink.”

“Matt, I’m taller than you. Also did you actually just say ‘wink wink’ out loud?” Keith said, unimpressed.

“Absolutely.” He tossed the headband to Pigeon, who looked almost annoyed at Matt as Momentous. They caught it easily and Matt cheered.

Then Keith was being dragged by the wrist out the door, confused goodbyes from the Cadre following after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW HI. Have I ever mentioned how much I _hate_ having to format? Because fuck formatting wow I use too many italics for this shit. Lot's has happened in the past month and 2/3. S7 was wild. I joined more events I probably don't have much time for bc school. The words Bereft, Meticulous, Momentous, and Quintessence showed up in my English vocab lists. I love the dragon prince and you should too etc etc you don't care sorry. ANYWAY, this chapter was a mess it was mostly me tired at 4 am and messy writing sprints from today so if there's something weird just shout it in the comments. I'm weirdly extremely excited to be posting this and I hope it was alright.
> 
>  **ALSO** here is my [writing inspiration playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/user/unoriginallylg/playlist/0Vz6ABkMz5eOUIeYbXxfY8?si=yTsGn9K_T7qo2UnsrJEJvg) for this fic! I've decided to give up my shame of basic music taste and shitty username and decided to put it here. [Actors by All Time Low ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ApxPRTqh6WM) is a part of it too (one of the _big_ inspiration songs) but it's a demo so not on Spotify lol


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey I'm late and this isn't as interesting as the last or next chapter but it is plot important so I hope it's alright, Enjoy!
> 
> p.s. please excuse any spelling/grammar errors, this was not betaed and only lightly looked over by me

When Keith stepped into the lab, he vaguely recalled the time about a year before– only months before Voltron first emerged as the first organized group of prodigies vowing to protect the city and actually succeeded– when Matt had come home slung over Shiro's shoulder, crying and shaking in glee. He'd been speaking too quickly for Keith's mind to process the words, and all he knew was that something had happened that made him _really_ fucking happy.

It was probably safe to assume now that that was the day he landed this job, and knowing Matt, Keith did not blame him at all. It was a large, open room with several scientists bustling around the room in lab coats donning the Voltron logo and staring at some screen, beaker, or clipboard. The walls were covered in charts, tables, screens of microscopes, news websites, and cameras that looked into closed off rooms.

They received quick, friendly smiles from the other scientists as Keith followed Matt and Plaxum, who had introduced herself as Matt was skipping ahead in the hallway. She was a pretty cool person from what Keith gathered, apparently one of  her sisters was a prodigy under Voltron and she’d been working there during her sophomore year of college as head of the research department for the development of superpowers.

Keith was a bit unnerved at first that she already knew so much about him– his medical records, his name, the names of his birth parents– but Plaxum had assured him that it was completely confidential and that she was under oath to keep the identity of all the Cadre a secret.

It was incredibly dangerous, that she knew who they all were beneath the masks and hoods. Galra could easily just get into the head of one of these superpower development scientists and it would all be over.

Still, he let her run her tests, answering her questions to the best of his ability– Keith still wasn't sure why his opinion on modern art sculptures was important, but Plaxum had insisted– and letting then stick him into what looked like a really odd MRI machine that made loud beeping sounds and gave results that had Matt, Plaxum, and the other scientists perplexed.

“Keith,” Matt began, pulling out his clipboard. “You're positive that the red talisman bonded to you?”

His brows furrowed at Matt’s confused tone. Usually he was pretty confident in everything he did, why was this time different? “Uh, yeah, that’s what Momentous said. And I’m pretty sure this is what the talisman is supposed to look like, isn’t it?”

Keith pulled on the black chord and the coin fell out of his shirt, glinting even under the fluorescent lights of the lab.

Plaxum nodded, jotting something down on her notepad. “Yeah, definitely. The lion alteration, it’s right there. Logically, the talismans don’t– shouldn't be able to– join with a Bereft, there’s no point when there’s nothing for it to latch onto. So that means to become a wielder one must be a prodigy. But you didn’t show any of the energy readings that a prodigy would. Instead, you read _exactly_ like a Bereft.”

“Maybe your bio-mom was a prodigy?” Matt suggested, looking down at his own clipboard. “It’s plausible; about sixty percent of the population has some sort of ability now, so she could’ve had some really strong ability that allowed you to bond with the red talisman. But even if that’s true, you have no powers yourself so there’s no way that you should’ve been able to no matter how strong your mother’s were.

“Maybe it connects to something else, something other than your abilities. But if that’s true then why do all the rest of them have them? How come there’s been no other Berefts able to bond with any of the talismans? Meticulous’ abilities are mostly natural skill, his powers just nudge things a bit more in the right direction, but it’s still there so all of them have abilities to some extent. But not you. I wonder...”

He continued to mutter to himself quietly, glancing back at Keith scrutinizingly a few times. Plaxum occasionally pointed at some chart on a screen with her own comments, almost causing Matt to erase something, scribble down something else, and call her _a motherfucking genius, what the hell Plax_. Keith remained standing where he was, completely and utterly confused.

It was one thing that he had one of the most dangerous and malevolent prodigies specifically out to kill him. It was another that he had suddenly been put into the team of prodigies trying to stop said murderous prodigy. But this, having no real reason behind the talisman binding him to Voltron, that was an entirely different level. Things seemed to just be getting more and more complicated, the answers more and more muddled. And after this there was no doubt that he’d be turned back to Voltron, he’d have to talk to them again, let them try to get to know him and find out what his power was.

But Keith didn’t _have_ any powers. He was just a Bereft, cursed by the universe and always ending up in all of the wrong places. What the hell was he supposed to tell them all? That this was some fluke, that there was no way that he could do this? Sure, the talisman would probably help enhance his agility and endurance, but what did he have beyond that? There was no weapon he could specialize in, no power he could use to take down his enemies, no bright mind able to take on any challenge. Somehow, he would have to prove himself worthy of being in Voltron. And perhaps he was not, but the talisman had chosen and there was no way to undo it so there was no other option.

The room shook suddenly, and something rumbled loudly above their heads. Matt and Plaxum seemed unperturbed and only frowned at the ceiling like it was a minor inconvenience, which perhaps it was ti them. Keith on the other hand gaped, eyes looking from the cracked cement and back at the two scientists.

“What the fuck?” he exclaimed. “Uh, does this happen a lot?”

“Yup,” Matt replied calmly with a shrug.

“That– that’s not– what the hell? This can’t be safe, isn’t there kinda a lot of people in here?” Keith sputtered.

Plaxum looked up and sent keith a small smile. “Oh, don’t worry about it. THat’s just Hammerhead trying to get into base again. Happens all the time. But it’s entirely secure in here, he won’t get it.” She snorted and added “He hasn’t for the past three years, anyway.”

Keith was wary still. “Um, alright then?”

Hammerhead had been one of the first “super villains” to gain real media traction a few years ago. He’d often go around crushing things in large public areas– park benches, spotlights, stadium speakers– and for a while had been listed as being one of the most dangerous prodigies for a while. He was minor league now, especially with Phantom’s entrance, so Keith supposed it made sense that he was just a minuscule inconvenience for Voltron in the grand scheme of things. But he was still pretty lethal, having the capability to obliterate large areas and whatnot and Keith was no less concerned. Today could be the day that their defences on HQ failed and everything could collapse inwards.

 _Stop that,_ Keith scolded himself. It would probably only jinx things further.

Plaxum walked over to Keith and helped him peel off the attached stickers and wires. Immediately, the screen monitoring his heart rate fell flat and a moment later the line disappeared as well.

“Anyway, when you get out on the field you’ve got to have at least something,” Matt announced. “C’mon, the aptitude testing room is through here. We’re gonna see how good you are with a bunch of different weapons. Hey, can you shut that off for me, Shay? Thanks.”

On the way out the room, Keith made the mistake of turning to his left, coming face to face with the scientist intern that Matt was addressing. Keith froze in his spot. It was not just some random intern, but Shay, _the_ Shay. The Shay who sat behind him in his geology class, the Shay who knew Hunk. He had never talked directly to her, but he knew that she recognized him as well, there was something that was a mixture of surprise and excitement in her eyes as she smiled and waved at him.

Keith forced himself to turn and continue walking. She was one of the most promising biochemistry majors in the school, of _course_ she was here. Why would Voltron not want someone like her on their team? And Keith had known from the beginning that it was just a matter of time until he ran into someone else he knew from his mundane life.

Obviously she wouldn't tell anyone that Keit was here, she’d been sworn to secrecy just like all the rest of the scientists, and even if she weren’t, it was clear that she was a respectful and kind person and would never go around telling other people things like that.

But still, Keith couldn’t help but think of how unnerving it was that his classmate had been here to witness the ordeal. She had seen all of his medical records plastered on the monitors along with the his scans and x-rays he’d ever had done in his life, she had watched him wince and trip over the air during all of Matt and Plaxum’s obscure tests. Well, that was one way to get to know someone, he supposed.

Keith trailed after Matt and Plaxum back into the cement labyrinth of HQ, walking with surprising ease as the floor shook beneath them. Perhaps he’d get used to this one day too. If they all lived that long with all the Galra bullshit happening.

“I hope you were some badass warrior knight in a past life, Keith, because if you were you’re going to _love_ this,” Matt said, turning to his friend with his eyes gleaming. “Welcome to our training room.”

He swung open the door dramatically, throwing his arm out towards the room as he held it open for Keith and Plaxum.

Though Keith was pretty sure he _hadn’t_ been a knife loving warrior knight in a past life, he would definitely appreciate the thoroughness and size of the training room. On all the walls were racks holding different types of weapons and mats lined the floors. From the ceiling hung a frayed climbing rope, and near it was a foam pit that looked like it had been jumped in recently. To Keith’s surprise, Coran stood at the center of the room. His bright hair had been pulled back and the navy suit was replaced by a vibrant tracksuit. Keith didn’t know whether to be disturbed by the man’s attire or relieved that Coran would be the one testing him instead of some other random stranger around here.

“This is where the other, more minor prodigies train too,” Plaxum added, taking the lead now. “The Cadre has their own private room, as you probably saw, but feel free to come in here at any time. THough normally there are a lot more people, just a small warning.

“Coran will be assisting you today, we’ll be off to the side watching. If you’d please slip these on that would be immensely helpful so we can get your stats while you train too. Since you activated the talisman the first time when your adrenaline was high and you were fighting a prodigy we think this might show if there’s any abnormalities from a usual Bereft.”

Keith held out his wrist and let Plaxum secure the bands on. They sealed with a click and the turquoise light flickered on. “You should be good to go,” Plaxum said. “I know you probably have no experience whatsoever with weaponry– not to mention a few of these probably haven’t even been used since the middle ages– but just do your best, alright? If you want to stop at any time or something weird happens just say something and we can be done for the day. Is that alright?”

He straightened, shaking his wrists a bit to get the feel of the bands on them. “Yeah, I think. THank you,” he said quickly, looking away. Keith didn’t understand why she was being so kind and discussing what they were doing here, talking to him like a human being rather than a lab rat. It was nice, but at the same time he felt a pulse of anxiety. He had absolutely nothing to prove right now, but he wanted to do well. So what if he’d never wielded a spear before? He would try his damn hardest until he could do it. The same went for all the other things in the room. Perhaps he couldn't contribute to the team with abilities, but he would make a point to contribute by mastering all of these weapons. It was the least he could do to keep himself from being a burden.

“Ah, Number Four!” Coran said, walking over to the trio. “Are you ready to begin?”

Keith shrugged. “Uh, I guess? I don’t know if I’m wearing the right clothes for this but–”

“Oh, no, you’ll be fine in what you’re wearing now. Today will be nice and easy for you, smoother than rhubarb pie!” Coran cut him off, tossing a wooden sword in Keith’s direction. He easily caught it and Coran beamed. “Great, let’s begin then.”

He strode up to Keith with his sword haphazardly swinging along beside him. Wooden or not, Keith stepped to the side a bit, avoiding getting wacked in the leg. “Ah, the art of sword fighting,” Coran began, signing nostalgically. “You know, Momentous’ father and I used to spar quite often, it was a wonderful way to decompress and relax. If you ever need something to do, I would recommend it, there is always someone in here who might spar with you. If not we also have programmed robot gladiators.

“Anyway though, you first widen your stance, maybe this wide apart.” Coran pointed down to his feet, which were spread about shoulders’ width apart. Keith copied the movement hesitantly. “Good, good! And then you hold it a bit like this,” he proceeded, taking his sword into both hands. “You see, your dominant hand goes on the top part like so. It stays firm there, and your other hand goes down here.”

Keith picked up his own sword again, following Coran’s example carefully. He noticed that his hands were a bit sweaty, loosening his grip on the sword, and made a mental note that when they did get to making his costume, Keith would have to be sure that he got gloves. It was an odd thought, but other than that it felt almost natural on his hands, like he’d swung one a thousand million times before, like he had been made to hold this weapon. SOmething about it just felt _right_. Perhaps it was something to do with the talisman. The last paladin must have wielded a sword as well. There was no other explanation– in the twenty first century it was not a common weapon for people to use outside of fantasy novels.

Or rather, fantasy novels and superhero organization training rooms. The weird shit that was happening in Keith’s life, really.

Still, he was determined to become proficient in all of the weapons in here. But first, he would have to learn the sword.

“You must find the balance in the sword, find the best way to swing it most effectively. I’ll go easier on you to begin, but know that Galra will not, and I don’t think your teammates will either. We’ll do a small practice run now.”

Keith nodded, and then Coran was three feet away , knees bent and feet slowly moving to the left. For a moment they circled each other, Keith uncertain and Coran suddenly much more serious.

Suddenly Coran lunged forward, his own wooden sword aiming towards Keith’s right arm. He stepped back quickly, parrying the sword with his own. When wood clashed on wood and Keith was safe, he blinked in surprise. It _definitely_ had something to do with the talisman, he had been sure that he was going to fall backwards.

“Impressive,” Coran mused. He swiped again with his sword, this time grazing the side of Keith’s thigh. “If you are going to fight Galra, keep your sides covered. If this were the real thing I’d have opened a major artery. Not bad though. But can you keep up?”

They circled each other once again, this time for a it longer, when finally Keith got impatient. He ran forward with his sword, swinging it towards Coran’s arm on instinct. The older man evaded it easily but smiled as he spun around and met Keith’s next strike.

Keith still had no idea what he was doing– he had yet to get proper instruction on how to use this still beyond basic stance and grip, why the hell hadn’t Coran added more in before he challenged Keith to a spar?– but he was doing surprisingly well. Most of Coran’s attacks were quickly deflected, and he attempted a few of his own. By now Keith had expected to be knocked flat on his ass in a mat.

Coran looked like he had hardly even broken a sweat, movements still with theatrical flare that belonged on a stage more than in a small underground training room, and he continued to comment on Keith’s actions, both praise and critique. His voice was lilted, his expression far too amused.

“Being proficient with a sword is essential if you wish to face Galra with no abilities,” he said. “They commonly use blades such as this, however some use guns and crossbows. Your teammates can take care of those, however, and you would be best as a close range adversary. Momentous is well practiced in it, though she does not always go on Voltron outings so it would have to be up to you and Scythe if he is available. The rest of your teammates are better equipped for further range combat– Loosen your left hand a bit so you can freely turn your sword. Yes, good, like that. I must say, you’ve picked up this up rather quickly, I am impressed.”

Keith swung the sword at Coran again, following his direction. The difference was evident immediately. Though he did not look like it ordinarily, it was clear that Coran was a very skilled swordsman. Once again the strike was parried, though this time it was a bit closer.

Coran laughed heartily, aas if Keith had just cracked a good joke rather than almost hit him in the face with a heavy stick of wood. “Better. But don’t stress your wrists as much, it would be much more efficient if you were to use your elbow or shoulder for this move.”

It was probably time that he called break. Keith was fully aware. And he did not give two shits.

Shiro had always told him that his stubborn attitude towards everything– positive or not– would one day be his downfall. It seemed that today was about to become that day. Though Coran seemed to be some incredibly fit, tireless alien, Keith was panting in exhaustion now. He could feel the sweat dripping down his forehead, his hands ached, and his throat screamed for water. And still he just gritted his teeth and ignored it though, lunging forward at Coran once again.

His brother was wrong. He could do this. Fuck his adult wisdom.

He had barely moved an inch when suddenly Matt was yelling. “ _Aha!_ That’s it! Holy shit, Plax, why didn’t we think of it before?”

Keith paused mid strike and turned to see Matt and Plaxum jumping up and down, their clipboards tightly gripped in their hands. Matt turned to Keith grinning widely. “Alright, Keith you can take a little rest now. I think we might’ve found something. Something _big._ ”

“Also,” added Plaxum, “you really _should_ take a break now _._ For the rest of the day, really. Maybe get some water and a snack in the lobby. Unless Pigeon programmed this wrong, you’ll probably reach a point of overexertion in around eight seconds. I don’t think you want that happening.”

“Uh, okay?” Keith said. He’d completely forgotten that they were monitoring his stats. And though he wanted to do a bit more, see how far he could go, Plaxum was also right. He didn’t really want to reach a point of overexertion in eight seconds. With a sigh, Keith let the sword drop and accepted a plastic bottle of water from Matt.

Coran lowered his sword as well and rested a hand on Keith’s shoulder again. “Good work today, my boy, feel free to practice with me any time! I see some potential in you.”

“Yeah, sure, thank you,” he replied awkwardly. “That was uh– it was pretty nice, actually.”

Keith waved to Coran one last time before opening the water bottle, gulping it down as he followed after Matt and Plaxum. “Alright,” he said tiredly. “Where to next?

“Oh, just the best part,” Plaxum replied with a grin.

Matt was still giddy with whatever he’d found, and though Keith was happy that he could help his brother’s boyfriend out a bit it was sort of scary seeing him like this. Keith looked away from him and back at Plaxum, tilting his head slightly.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked.

“Uniform design, of course! Hope you’re good with red though, it’s kind of going to be your signature color out there. We need something pretty for the public to look at, you know?” Plaxum pulled a sketchbook from her lab coat’s pocket, thumbing through a few pages before opening to one with what Keith recognized as Meticulous’ costume.

“I’m not much of an artist, but I helped out Meticulous design his when he first came here, see? And it’s got all these cool little things in it, like this inside vest pocket for bow strings and arrow heads.” She gestured to the sketch on the mirroring page, and Keith raised his eyebrows.

“Wow, that’s actually pretty cool,” he said.

Plaxum beamed. “Thanks! If you’d like help on yours I’d be happy to help out. Though for cool superhero names and whatnot, I’d ask Flare. He’s got a real talent with words.” She paused to stow the sketchbook again then snorted. “I still can’t believe I work in a lab for an organization of fucking superheroes, to be honest.”

Keith blinked. “Actually, yeah, that’d be cool if you could help me with that. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do for it, I could really use some guidance on it.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Plaxum said. “I can go over some basic things when we get in there. Usually Momentous is the one facilitating the costume design actually, but she hasn’t really been able to these past few weeks whenever we get a new prodigy. She’s kind of got her plate full with everything going on with Phantom and Galra and all the missing prodigies.”

Her voice was sad at the end and full of sympathy, but not pity. If anything, Plaxum highly respected Momentous and everything that she did. Keith did not blame her either. Other than leaving him with a bleeding out Meticulous the other night, the prodigy showed nothing but excellence and authority.

“Oh, yeah that’s fine, I get it. There’s more important things than us playing dress up going on right now,” Keith replied. Then, gathering all the courage he could manage he said, “Uh, so, what did Matt think he found?”

They turned another corner and Plaxum frowned a bit. “He believes that you actually are a prodigy. All your tests are negative, but he thinks that your powers are there– just latent. They’ve been suppressed by something, for whatever reason. And now he aims to find out what that is. All else has been temporarily set aside. I hope you don’t mind.”

Keith shook his head. “No, no. Actually, it’s kind of nice seeing him finally so hyped up over something again. Like really, genuinely. My brother Shiro, his boyfriend, he just came back from serving in the military for a few years, and that time was… pretty hard on Matt and me. It’s good to see him smile again, even if it’s about trying to find something wrong with my– energy or whatever.”

It was true, and his happiness to see the normal, sprightly Matt back was currently overtaking the part of him that wanted to analyze what Plaxum had just revealed. Something might’ve been altered, some sort of change that completely nullified his abilities– if they truly existed. Because Matt was a great person, and he deserved to be happy and content rather than having to worry himself into manic productivity so he wouldn’t have to think about his boyfriend possibly dying at any given moment.

Things were not exactly back to how they’d been before Shiro had been deployed– and he still had an entire half arm missing as visual proof that things had changed– but they were definitely getting there. This was one more major step towards them finding a new, happier normal to fall into.

“He’s very lucky to have found you two,” Plaxum said.

“Yeah, we’re pretty lucky to have the Holts too.”

They quieted as Matt reached the final doorway. He punched a few numbers into the keypad and scanned his ID, and the door flew open. Matt smiled and held it open again.

They had taken Keith into a large computer lab with several rows of individual PCs and one large monitor at the center. Matt made a beeline for the central one, walking straight up to it and typing out a long, complex password.

“Alrighty, Keith, what’re you looking for?” he asked, sitting in the chair and spinning it around to face the other two again. “Sky’s the limit here. Anything you want, choose a theme. I can even get this thing to look like your DND character if you’d like. If I can give Pigeon mechanical moth wings, anything is possible.”

Keith winced, glancing at Plaxum for help. “Uhh, something with gloves maybe?”

Matt snorted. “Typical. Luckily for you, I think I know just the thing. How do you feel about fingerless gloves?”

“Er, what?”

* * *

 

Around an hour and a half later, Keith’s superhero costume– despite everyone’s insistence it was a  _ uniform,  _ Keith refused to refer to it as anything but a costume– had been designed and ordered and he was on his way back home. They were going to take him back to the Cadre as well, to see if Flare could help think of an alias for him, but Voltron had gone out on a mission. It turned out that Hammerhead was  _ not  _ finished trying to smash as many things as he possibly could.

Keith was somewhat grateful. He didn’t know what might’ve happened if they had been around. 

It was suddenly beginning to feel real now, more serious, more official. This was really going to be happening. Keith was now a member of the Cadre of Voltron.

He wasn’t sure whether to feel dread or excitement. Momentous had caught him on the way out, warning him that he was expected back to join them on a patrol in the Arus district in two days. The entire team was going to be there, so hopefully Meticulous would not be sitting in Keith’s window at the last minute and make Keith late as well.

He would now be working alongside Meticulous, too, and as a member of the Cadre of Voltron. It felt like a cliche, some fucked up version of Hannah Montana. There were now two Keiths. There was the normal one, the one who liked art and felt blankets, and then there was the superhero one, the one who would be expected to be brave and quick witted. The wielder of the Red Talisman of Voltron. And between them, a fault line was beginning to form.

Every step further into Superhero Keith deepened it, the cracks became larger, the shadows thicker. One day it might even grow impossible for him to cross back over. It was not something that Keith wanted to think about.

He climbed the stairs of the apartment building slowly today, the tests and Coran’s test in sword aptitude had made his legs sore. He didn’t mind too much, though. One more step meant one more second before he’d have to face Shiro, who was definitely back by now. One more second before he’d have to lie to his brother’s face on where he had gone, what he was doing. One more second before the fault line severed entirely, until nothing was left but a chasm of fiction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if you've looked at my account lately I have been fucking busy with vld fics wow. It wasn't laziness. Just a few days ago I posted an 18.9k klance fic i've been working on since _July_. More long one shots are to come because of other events (mostly kl haha), but fear not this awful fic will not be abandoned. I've learned how to write way faster these past few months doing that klance poetry exchange fic, actually like 90% of this was written just,, today? yesterday? the evening of oct 27 and the hour of 12 am on oct 28. anyway, yeah, I can write quick now. this will also be one of my main priority fics for NaNoWriMo (become a writing buddy if you're doing it too if you want, i'm adverbialstarlight!) I also discovered rich text which is a lifesaver. Maybe that means the next chapter will come quickly, who knows.  
>  As always, thank you so much for reading, have a great day/night/whatever, comment or leave a kudos if you want to make me cry, and bye
> 
> come yell @ me on [tumblr](https://adverbialstarlight.tumblr.com)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: I write slow lmao  
> me: writes this abnormally long chapter in a total of maybe 10 hours between writing several other things  
> me: _stares into camera like it's the office_
> 
> anyway thank you for sticking around, the beginning of this is sorta filler but then things get _less dull_ enjoy!
> 
> *please excuse any mistakes, unbetaed or edited

"I've absolutely no idea if this is supposed to be keeping this a secret or whatever, but there's a new guy in Voltron."

Keith stiffened, glancing up from his sketchbook to Meticulous. After what Momentous had said yesterday, he was surprised that the superhero had even shown up tonight. There were much more important things to be focusing on right now, after all.

Prodigies were going missing and then reappearing later on as puppets of Phantom. There was a good chance that Galra had returned, vengeful and hellbent on the elimination of Voltron. There was no time for one of the main members of Voltron to be sitting around on Keith's window when there could be another attack at any second. And really— though Meticulous didn't know this— there was no need to anymore.

The red talisman had chosen Keith, he would soon become a member of Voltron officially. Not that Meticulous knew this, of course, if he did then things would  _ officially  _ descend into hell and madness. There was no way that Keith could ever let him know. But it would help him defend himself were Phantom to try to attack again— though those seemed to be at a halt right now— and try to keep him from dying too easily. Though Keith had to admit the company was nice. It was his sole source of social connection now aside from Shiro and Matt. He had a feeling that Pidge’s friends— alright, just Lance, really— didn’t really like him, though it was probably fair because Keith didn’t like Lance either.

And so he sat quietly, listening to Meticulous talk about his day. He kept his face carefully blank as he doodled half heartedly in his sketchbook, ignoring the open textbook beside him. If the rest of the Cadre really was about the same age, Keith would have to ask how they were balancing school out with all the superhero bullshit. They were nearing finals now, and all Keith could really do these days was worry about prodigies trying to kill him– or, as of late, recruit him to their elite group of prodigy superheroes– and try not to fail his classes. College wasn’t proving to be easy as high school, where he could zone out and end the class with a B. and if Shiro noticed even a slight drop in his grades then he’d be forced into a tutoring session with Matt.

Keith had told himself that was  _ never  _ going to let that happen again after Matt had done a large, overly detailed 3D model of a cell and listed extra terrifying facts when Keith had gotten a C on his biology test during his sophomore year off high school, but he seemed to be veering that direction again. When there were so many bigger things going on right now what was the point of relearning algebra when he wasn’t going to be using it anyway?

“We didn’t get much out of him yesterday even though we all looked into each other’s deepest souls and whatever but I dunno how to feel about him yet. I mean, yeah, I’m going to be forced to like him if we’re going to become comrades or whatever,” Meticulous said, hands waving as he talked. Some time in the past few months he’d gone from sitting on the windowsill to the foot of Keith’s bed. Keith didn't know how to feel about that, though it was one of the less weird things right now considering that the hero was pretty much talking about Keith  _ to  _ Keith.  “But there's something about him, some weird aura that kind of feels like he looks down at all of us and is better? It’s weird because like, I’ve only just met the guy and we don’t even know what his power is yet. Could’ve just been leftover adrenaline though. The streets are getting more dangerous now, you know.”

He raised an eyebrow at Keith. When he only stared, Meticulous’ small concerned frown morphed into a coy, confident grin. “Which is why it’s a good thing I’m here to protect you. It’s like Zelda or something.”

Keith scoffed. “Yeah not really.”

Meticulous stuck his tongue out and Keith could imagine the crinkle in his nose under the shadow of his hood. “Alright, uncalled for, but I guess I’ll let it slide for now. But yeah, who knows how this is going to turn out. What if the talisman chose wrong and we can’t tap into Voltron’s higher powers or whatever? There’s been smaller… incidents lately, more powerful but low key prodigies disappearing and whatever. I don’t know if we’ll be able to stop it.”

Keith looked up, pausing in his drawing. Meticulous had a distant look in his eyes as he fidgeted with the loop of his gun holster, mouth pulled in a tight line. He had seen him worried before, anxious even, it seemed to be a part of the job, but Keith had never seen Meticulous look so… vulnerable. Not since that night where he got stabbed. For a moment he was just a boy again, maybe nineteen at most with far too many responsibilities. It was a wonder how he was able to act so energetic and upbeat most of the time.

“I’m sure he was chosen for a reason,” Keith said, attempting nonchalance. “If you guys weren’t all compatible to work together and stuff Momentous wouldn’t have let him become the red talisman wielder. I think.”

He tried to sound confident in his words, but Keith couldn’t help but kick himself mentally. He had absolutely no aptitude for comforting people, especially not in something big as this.

When Shiro had first returned from the military only a few months ago, he would wake up screaming, practically tearing at the sheets on his bed. Keith had felt helpless as he heard his brother screaming, sobbing, whimpering. Matt was usually there to help him through it, but on the nights he was working late Keith had no idea what to do.

What he felt now in the long pause was similar to that, the sinking and stinging ache that was trying to consume his entire chest. There was nothing he could say that would be helpful, and if Meticulous learned that his new teammate was also completely useless and the talismans had been wrong, that they had chosen a  _ Bereft  _ as its wielder, it would probably just send the guy into an even bigger panic attack.

But something that he said must have worked, because then Meticulous was nodding, looking back up at Keith. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. They chose their wielders for a reason. And there’s no point in having an incompatible team, Momentous wouldn’t have let that happen. Thanks.” Another pause and then he added, much lighter, “I bet his hair’s even worse than yours though.”

Keith smiled a bit as well, relief filling his body. He was sure that he’d fucked something up, maybe somehow given himself away and Meticulous was about to somehow realize that he was the new Cadre member, but he was still safe. For now. He kicked in Meticulous’ direction, pushing the side of his leg off the bed.

“Oh come on, you can’t seriously care that much about someone’s fucking  _ hair _ . Maybe you’re the one with bad hair under that hood,” he said, eyebrows raised.

Meticulous threw a pillow at him and leaned back. “Oh trust me, my hair is  _ gorgeous _ . Girls love my hair. Bet you can’t say the same though.”

“Yeah okay.”

“No, really! Like, I went to this super cool bakery the other day– you might know it I think it’s around here, there’s like a bookstore there too, super chill place– and there was this girl there and she  _ loved  _ it. Her name was like, Natasha or Nyla but–”

Keith had been sitting stiff and rigid, still processing that there was a possibility that he’d seen Meticulous before, out of costume and in the real world, but then he knew that he meant Nyma and burst out in snorting laughter.

“Hey, what’s so funny?” Meticulous asked.

It took a moment for Keith to catch his breath again, and when he could again he wheezed, “Dude. She was just messing with you, you know that right? Yeah, she kind of likes to flirt around with everyone, but Nyma is gay. Really, I’m pretty sure the only straight person in there is Rax and he barely even does shit.”

Meticulous opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by the beeping of one of the small teal cuffs on his wrist. Keith had seen him use them before, had seen them on all of the other paladins of the Cadre. It was some sort of communicator device that privately broadcasted messages from HQ to them without having to risk eavesdropping on a public line. Besides, exchanging numbers wasn’t exactly doable if you knew one of your teammates outside of Voltron too. Keith couldn’t imagine how terrifying that might be.

Pushing back his sleeve, Meticulous tapped a button on his communicator and an orange box hovered in the air above the LEDs. It was mostly opaque, but Keith could see the shapes of letters reflected through it as Meticulous skimmed the message.

He sighed, pushing the button to collapse the screen and slouched backwards. “Duty calls, my damsel, I’ve got to go stop some weird… cat lady? Whatever her ability is, I dunno, it’s really not doing much for the farmer’s market by the mall so I’ll catch you later I guess.”

Keith rolled his eyes and watched as Meticulous slowly pulled himself up again and headed back to the window. He was starting to think it was more for dramatic effect considering it was the middle of the day and Shiro and Matt were gone. “Last I recall, I was the one saving  _ your  _ ass but alright I guess,” he called after him.

Meticulous had been pretty quiet on the whole incident since it happened, and Keith wasn’t sure if it was a pride thing or something else, but he was quick to shout,  “Nope, don’t remember, didn’t happen! Bye Keith!” as he hooked his grappling hook into the windowsill and flung himself out.

“Yeah, alright,” Keith mumbled.

Only six minutes after Meticulous left though, a new figure appeared in him window. He suppressed a sigh. Was this becoming some sort of stray, bored superhero pitstop or something, because it sure as fuck felt like it. He couldn’t imagine who wanted what from him now. 

 

When Keith looked up, he was surprised to see Momentous standing there, regal and probably sweating her ass off in her heavy white cloak. The staff was firmly in her right hand, giving her the look of a sorceress in some sort of fantasy game, and her eyes were hard and urgent. It was quite the contrast from when Keith had last saw her in HQ, when the Cadre was doing their team bonding exercises, though considering the current issue at hand, one big enough that a member of the Cadre had to be called in, she was probably at least somewhat terrified right now.

“Hi,” Keith said awkwardly, wincing. “Uh, shouldn’t you be watching Meticulous fighting the cat lady or something right now?”

He grimaced. Oh god, he probably just pissed her off, it sounded completely rude and unnecessary. She knew that it was happening, she was the one who fucking sent Meticulous over there to resolve it. And that was honestly borderline  _ nosy _ . Good job, Keith.

Momentous waved her hand. “It is not too large, a lower ranking agent probably could have sufficed but it was mostly to send Meticulous away. I must speak with you.”

“Oh?” Keith said, closing his sketchbook. His hands were starting to sweat now, and all the worst possibilities began to cloud his mind. She had found him out, realized that he had no idea what the fuck her was doing and was going to try to revoke the talisman and its power. She was going to kill him so Voltron wouldn’t have to deal with  _ him  _ being there. She was–

Smiling now.

“I studied the results of your aptitude test with Coran this afternoon. You are rather skilled with a sword, Keith. Even with the augmentation of the talisman, you showed excellent form and dexterity. A natural, really. I believe that soon you may be able to go out on the field and start work with the others outside of simply patrol.” Momentous paused, as if she sensed Keith’s sudden increase anxiety. He honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if that was possible. “It would be a minor foe at first, of course, but I truly believe that you’d be able to take it on. Once your alias and uniform are completed, you will be officially stepping into the role of a member of Voltron.” 

For a minute Keith just stared. What made her so sure when he hadn’t even done his first patrol yet for fuck’s sake. Was she just putting all of her hope into the talisman, believing that it would help him through even if things went south? His training had yet to begin, he had no powers except his resistance to Phantom’s control– though that took immense effort as well– and there was no way in hell that he’d survive one of the meet and greets or council meetings that Voltron seemed to be doing more of.

There was literally nothing that qualified Keith to become part of the team other than a talisman and the universe’s terrible sense of humor. And still he said, “Uh, alright then. Thanks I guess.”

Momentous beamed. “You have the potential for greatness Keith, I am positive that you will do well.”

Then, just as Meticulous had, she swung out of his window and disappeared back into the city. Keith sighed and turned back into his room.

He really needed to lie down. There was  _ way  _ too much that the two prodigies just dumped on him to process, Keith was pretty sure that wherever there was a prodigy was involved now, there was a good chance that following after it was two aspirin. He might know Meticulous. He was going to be doing real superhero shit soon.

“Keith, we’re back!” a voice shouted from the main room, a door slamming closed behind it. “I’d appreciate if you’d come help carry some of this in!”

Keith sighed, letting himself fall face first into his bed. Maybe if his pillow suffocated him then he wouldn’t have to go out and help Shiro with his groceries. But still he turned his head and shouted back, “Get Matt to do it, it’s not my fault you had no self restraint at Costco!”

“I am,” Matt shouted back, much closer to the hallway. “He still bought too much shit, get your ass over here and get the almonds before I spill these fuckers everywhere!”

“Matt, the bag is completely sealed–”

“No one asked you, Shiro.”

There was a pounding on the wall that separated Keith’s room from the apartment next to theirs, and a male voice shouted, “Stop fucking yelling!”

Keith, the petty person that he was, only pounded back on the wall twice as hard and shouted back to him, “Stop fucking banging on the walls!” before sitting up and walking out of his door.

When he came into the room, Shiro was holding a box of raspberries balanced on top of a double pack of cheese and a large tub of pretzels as he frowned at Keith. “Was that really necessary?” he asked.

Snorting, Keith took the sour cream from his brother and placed it on the counter. “Yeah, okay, sorry Sarah. Just because your kid didn’t win his soccer game today doesn’t mean you’ve got to be pissy. Besides. You kind of started it.”

Shiro sighed again, letting Keith take the rest of the items out of his hands without resistance. He slouched into the couch and closed his eyes. “Keith, Matt, not today, please. Just let me sit. No slander, no bickering with neighbors, no stupid prodigy chaos, just  _ peace _ .”

“Alright, fine but why did you buy all of this crap anyway? Either you’re throwing a bar mitzvah or you’re preparing to cook some really big meal for no goddamn reason” Keith said. He closed the refrigerator and walked over to sit on the other side of the couch. “Did something happen at work?”

When he returned from the war, Shiro had taken on a part-time job at a record store only a few subway stops away. He liked the job, as far as Keith could tell, but there was always the occasional rude customer who said something rude, mostly because of his appearance. It seemed that large scars and prosthetic limbs were not something to be treated as normal to some hipsters. Keith had wanted to go over and scream at the people the first time Shiro had admitted to it, and though he had convinced Keith refrain from it, the desire still remained.

Shiro merely shrugged. “It was fine. Just kind of a rough day. I’m exhausted.”

He opened his eyes to flick on the TV, though instead of Long Island Medium or some equally as skull numbing show, the news was being broadcasted. Shiro made to change the channel, eager as ever to get back to his trashy television– his guilty pleasure that no one but Keith and Matt were allowed to know.

Then at the last second the story switched to a blonde lady pointing at a picture of the park near the capital, different produce littered in the grass and on the pavement.

“Late this afternoon, a prodigy that appeared to be under direction of the infamous Phantom came into the Olkari Farmer’s Market, creating a disturbance as she continued to knock over crates of different vegetables and took money from the registers of different stands. She attempted to kidnap a young girl and escape, though Voltron members Meticulous and Scythe were luckily there to save the young woman. The prodigy is now in police custody for questioning, her motives still unclear. Thousands of dollars’ worth of produce was damaged in the incident, though luckily no one was severely injured. Now Seth with the weather–”

Shiro finally hit the button, changing the channel to something on the Food Network, and Keith zoned out. He did not give reasoning as to why he let that story run before changing the channel, though Keith could have sworn that Matt muttered something about Shiro’s ego as he plopped down between the two and situated himself into the couch as well.

But that was not important. That prodigy in that story had been the same rogue prodigy Meticulous had been sent to go after today. Momentous said that it was something minor, though from the sounds of it, if it required Meticulous and Scythe and a young girl– a prodigy, no doubt– was nearly kidnapped, it was somewhat serious.

Phantom was changing his tactics. Just a week ago he had only gone after powerful prodiges– ones with arms that doubled as canons, ones that could move things with their mind alone or command swarms of flaming bees. And none of them had actually done anything to directly hurt people– unless that person was Keith, of course– and instead seemed to just be there and make a nuisance. Almost like a distraction. A distraction for when he or the Galra went and kidnapped their next victim.

But now he was going after lowly prodigies like this woman, whose abilities might only serve as a cool party trick and not something lethal, and he openly trying to take more prodigies as well. Was it desperation? Had he somehow gained more power, something that made him feel bold enough to steal prodigies in broad daylight, right in the open for Voltron to see?

After only twenty or so minutes, the first snore came from Shiro, his head leaned to the side and into Matt’s shoulder. Keith looked away from the man on the screen that was peeling apart an eel and over to his brother with a raised eyebrow.

Matt looked down at Shiro fondly then back up at Keith. “Dude, he is out like a fucking light,” he stated.

“Whatever he was doing today probably sapped the energy out of him,” Keith replied. And then he frowned. “Is he getting enough sleep, by the way? Has he had another… y’know.”

“Nah, he’s doing fine. Just worn after today I guess,” Matt said, averting his eyes. There was cleary something he wasn’t telling Keith, his words vague and fingers tapping a bit quicker than usual. But for now he would let it go. Keith was tired as well.

He got up to leave, planning to just grab a banana from the counter and try to study again. Matt stopped him, putting his leg out towards the coffee table, blocking Keith’s path. “Hey, one second, I gotta talk to your real quick,” he said.

Keith nodded, brows furrowing at Matt’s solemn expression as the man gently lifted Shiro’s weight off of him and onto the arm of the couch. He had a feeling that he knew what this was going to be about.

Matt grabbed his phone off of the coffee table, skimming a text before shoving it into his sweater pocket. “Alright, Meticulous will be out for another few minutes so let’s talk in your room.”

Honestly, Matt knowing about Meticulous was probably something Keith should have seen coming. He silently followed him into the hallway, sending one last glance at Shiro before closing the door.

“Alright, so. Usually we’ve got someone else to give this speech, even Flare would be good at this but it’s kind of time sensitive since my sibling is going to text you in like fifteen minutes asking you to come help them do a thing and this is important with Galra back out there doing its thing so I guess it’s happening now,” Matt stated the moment the door clicked shut. “Handling your whole double life thing with other people 101, brought to you by Matthew Holt. Though I’m just a scientist and not like you guys being out there and all kickass, even I know that the first rule is to act completely chill about anything related to Voltron. But like a chill that’s situation appropriate. So like, say Phantom has taken a poor man hostage, made him take a whole store of suburban moms and one Keith.”

Keith glared at him, unamused, but said nothing.

“As basically one of his guardians when he was in high school, I’ve got to be concerned about the situation, maybe flipping my shit a bit. And I was. But I can’t be  _ too  _ concerned, because I know that he’s maybe got the red talisman, that he’s being hunted personally by someone that is using the guy actually attacking and obviously that’ll make me panic more and they’d know that I know something. But at the same time I can’t be too  _ calm  _ or else they know that I know that you’ll be fine and that Voltron will be there to help you out–”

“Only after I get a bunch of hospitalization level injuries and a good dose of terror,” Keith cut in dryly.

Matt waved his hand in dismissal. “Details. But anyway, my point is that you’ve got to be chill about all the superhero stuff and not try to seem too affected by it. You are not a member of the Cadre or under specific protection as a citizen by one of the Cadre members when you’re out there as Keith. You’re just a normal eighteen year old dude who likes art and works in a bookstore and knows no more about Voltron and Phantom than anyone else.”

Just then, Keith’s phone screen lit up, displaying a new text from Pidge just as Matt had told him there would be.

**[8:17]Pidge:** **_hey I’m outside your apartment building rn_ **

**[8:18]Pidge:** **_good news you get to come w me to pick up lance_ **

**[8:18]Pidge:** **_also bring your wallet you’re buying us cupcakes with your employee discount lmao_ **

He sighed, texting them that he’d come down in a minute before turning back to Matt. “Yeah, I’m not sure how you knew they were going to do that but I’ve got to go. Pidge wants me to go with them to pick up Lance and get them cupcakes. I don’t know why  _ I  _ have to go but I’m gone I guess.”

“I mean what I said, Keith. There might be Galra anywhere, maybe in your own work. The less they know that you know, the better,” Matt told him. He pulled out his own wallet and handed Keith a ten and a few ones. “Have fun, dude. You deserve to get out more.”

“I doubt it,” Keith muttered. Not if Lance was going to be there.

Sensing Keith’s bitterness, Matt rolled his eyes. “And maybe give Lance a chance tonight. He really is a sweet kid, you just need to wait a bit to get through his exterior, you know? You two have more in common than you’d think.”

Keith scoffed and picked up his jacket from the floor where he had haphazardly tossed it earlier. “Yeah okay, whatever.”

“We love you,” Matt called sarcastically behind him. “Don’t forget to wear your helmet!”

“Don’t forget to carry your boyfriend to a proper bed before he kills you for letting him fall asleep on the couch,” Keith replied. He slammed the door shut behind him, huffing at Matt’s flustered stuttering behind him. Honestly who did they think they were kidding anymore?

When he got to the bottom and had pulled his bicycle around to the front, Pidge was sitting on the stairs looking at their phone. From the soft smile on their lips, Keith knew that they were texting Allura.

He snuck up to the side of them. It was honestly kind of pathetic that they hadn’t even heard his bike. “ALIENS,” Keith shouted into Pidge’s ear, causing them to jump and glare at him.

“I hate you  _ so  _ much,” they said flatly.

A normal, wise person would have gone running, Pidge could be scarier than any possessed prodigy when they really wanted to, but Keith only snorted and raised an eyebrow. “That’s what you get for making me pay for your cupcakes,” he said innocently. “C’mon, get on, the shop closes at nine and I have no idea where your friend works.”

“Lance,” Pidge said. “You and I both know you know that, Keith. Lance isn’t some blasphemous stain on the universe that you can’t say. I get that you don’t like the dude but I dunno maybe try to tolerate him? I mean he’s going to be standing on the front pegs of this hell mobile in about three minutes so you might as well.”

Keith said nothing, and only pushed back the kickstand and waited as Pidge climbed up onto the back pegs.

“That record store on 5th Street,” Pidge directed once they were situated. Keith nodded and pushed away from the sidewalk and into the street.

As they found out five minutes later, the front pegs on Keith’s bike were not exactly meant to be stood on like the back ones, especially when the person there was at least twice the weight of the person on the back pegs and therefore tipped them forward as well as six feet tall and screaming that the person pedaling was going to crash and kill them all.

“Will you please be quiet,” Keith said through gritted teeth, craning his neck to see over Lance’s shoulder. Keith didn’t mind the extra weight on his bike, having had Shiro– who probably weighed more than Pidge and Lance combined– ride on the back before. And he also had the enhanced strength and endurance now thanks to the red talisman. So transporting two other people on his bike was no problem What  _ was  _ a problem, though, was the screechy, dour attitude of one of his passengers.

“Maybe when you go a bit slower,” Lance bit back, looking over his shoulder again. “You’re going to crash us into a person or a lamppost or something!”

Keith rolled his eyes, speeding up instead and smirking when Lance squealed as they narrowly missed the sign sitting outside of a store. “If you’d like to walk then, be my guest.”

“Oh hell no–  _ ah  _ holy shit, dude you’re going to hit the curb– it is way too dark and far away to walk there. And by the time I get there, you and Pidge will be gone and I’m going to have to use my  _ own  _ money to get a cupcake. I deserve a free cupcake after the shit I had to put up with in the store today,” Lance said stubbornly. “Sorry to say, but you’re stuck with me tonight.”

They glared at each other for a long moment before Pidge sighed, hitting Keith’s shoulder. He’d momentarily forgotten they were there. “Uh, eyes up front please, I would also rather not die tonight, thanks,” they said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Keith said, returning his gaze over Lance’s shoulder. “You could’ve just called an Uber but whatever I guess.”

Lance ruffled up his hair and cooed, “Aw but where’s the fun in that?”

Pidge cackled, and for a brief second Keith contemplated just letting the bike tilt over and let Lance fall off. Instead he shook his head and continued back towards the store. He still kind of wanted to hit Lance with a chair, but Matt was right. He needed something normal like this– something where there was no prodigies involved.

He was just going to get food with his friend and their friend, something that normal teenagers were supposed to be able to do. They were not going to get tangled into more Voltron or Phantom related issues, they were going to sit in the damn bookstore and eat a cupcake. It was all going to go well.

Keith was still trying to convince himself of that when they finally pulled up to the store. He came to a stop in front of the bike racks, double checked that they were at the right place– luckily Lance didn’t comment on it, Keith was not in the mood to explain that even though he went here every day, could navigate over while blind, he was still paranoid that they had come to the wrong place– and kicked down the stand.

“That’ll be six dollars,” he said as Pidge and Lance dismounted.

“For that terrible service, I don’t think so. You steer like a fucking maniac,” Lance said, putting out a hand to steady himself on the rack. Keith rolled his eyes, busying himself by pulling his bike lock off.

He secured it to the rack and stood, surprised to see that Pidge had made Lance wait instead of immediately going inside. He glanced up at the clock across the street and sighed in relief. It was only 8:25 now. Ezor was on shift right now and she’d never forgive him if Keith came in there with two others right before closing. She would probably make Acxa assign him to cleaning the bathrooms tomorrow. And as friendly as Keith and Acxa were, she would do it in a heartbeat– Ezor had her completely whipped, it seemed.

The bell rung as they stepped inside, and he was suddenly aware of just how cold it had become outside. Ezor looked up from where she was sitting on top of the countertop, jumping when she saw the trio in the doorway.

“Ah! Hello, welcome,” she greeted, jumping back behind the register. “Today’s special is red velvet cake, and if Keith snitches on me then Acxa will be giving him the lovely duty of oven cleaning tomorrow morning!”

Keith rolled his eyes. “I saw nothing,” he replied.

Ezor beamed. “Cookie decorating for Keith tomorrow, I guess!” She turned her attention back to Pidge and Lance, both of them poorly disguising their snickers with coughs. “Can I get you guys anything tonight?”

Pidge pulled out their phone, navigating to their texts with Allura. “Uh one peanut butter cupcake for me, and one cookies and cream and one salted caramel to go, please,” they said. “Hunk likes salted caramel, right?”

Lance and Keith walked over to look into the cabinet. Considering how late it was, there were a pretty high amount of everything today. Something in the bottom right caught Keith’s eye, a set of four cupcakes decorated drastically different from the rest of them. There was something familiar about them, but what, Keith couldn’t really tell.

“Hey, uh, what’re those?” he asked Ezor.

“Oh, those! You weren’t here for it, but we’re doing Voltron themed cupcakes now, aren’t they adorable?” she said. She pulled the tray out, setting them on top of the counter. “This purple one, with the white pearls and fondant ax at the center, that’s the Scythe one. The green one with the white sprinkles and bronze sugar wings is the Pigeon one. The yellow one with the orange and gold sprinkles is Flare. And the blue one with the arrow and gold sprinkles is the Meticulous one. Pretty cute, huh?”

Keith nodded. “Yeah, those are cool. I’ll get a fudge brownie.”

Lance snorted. “Lame,” he said, but Keith ignored him, eyes completely focused on glaring at the cupcakes innocently sitting on the countertop.

He wanted to scream. Of course this was going to happen. Voltron was inescapable now, it was even showing up in the baked goods at his work. He had to admit the cupcakes were pretty cool looking, probably the work of Narti’s deft hand, but this was supposed to be his evening of no superheroes. It seemed that the universe had something against letting Keith have a fucking break.

“I want one of those cool Meticulous cupcakes,” Lance said with a small smirk. Keith couldn’t figure out why, exactly, the cupcake honestly seemed like one of the duller ones, but the Voltron cupcakes were fifteen cents less than the rest of them so he said nothing.

Ezor placed the cupcakes into a box and Keith’s brownie into a paper bag. “That’ll be $9.84 with your discount, Keith,” she said.

He frowned but pulled out the dollar bills given to him by Matt. “Of course you knew that I was paying for them,” he sighed, handing over the money.

“Well, 20% off your entire purchase once a month  _ is  _ a pretty good deal,” Ezor replied. “Sixteen cents is your change. There are suburban moms who would kill for a coupon like that.”

Keith dropped the coins into the tip jar and shrugged in defeat. She was not wrong. “Okay, whatever. See you tomorrow, I guess.”

Before they were even out of the store, Lance took the box of cupcakes from Keith’s arms like a greedy raccoon, popping the top off eagerly. He inhaled deeply. “These smell even better than the ones I got with Hunk the other day.”

Pidge elbowed Lance away, taking their own cupcake out and examining it. “Don’t breathe on our food, dude, that’s gross,” they said. They took a bite of their cupcake anyway and sighed, eyes closing. “Delicious.”

There was a loud crash down the street, then, and the three teens’ tranquil evening was shattered. Keith looked up and his eyes locked onto the thick vines that were now encasing the buildings and sweeping through the road. People standing on the sidewalk were embroiled into the mass by their ankles, the vines tightly wounding around their ankles.

They all swore at the same time.

Each of them ran a different direction, Lance around the left corner, Keith the right one, and Pidge straight. He found himself in a dead end, but Keith couldn’t think too much on it. It had been a little while since he’d been directly present when a prodigy attacked, and he’d nearly forgotten the feel of adrenaline mixing in with his anxiety. But there was still something different about it. Maybe because this time he was now bonded to one of the Voltron talismans. Maybe because he’d been with people whose safety he cared about but they’d all gotten separated.

He stood there for a moment, listening. There was screaming, frantic footsteps, anxious police officers, and the sound of pavement being ripped up from the ground. This was not one of the minor prodigies that Phantom had been sending. Tonight he was planning something bigger, something that might need all of Voltron present to stop it before anything grievous happened.

Keith had not really practiced doing anything with Voltron yet other than teambuilding and spiritual alignment, both pretty useless in this situation. Was he expected to go try and help them? Was he supposed to run, to hide before Phantom saw him?

Before he could dwell on it too much though, a figure in a navy blue cloak came flying down from one of the roofs. They pushed back their hood to reveal Coran, who was holding Keith’s red hooded jacket as well as a pair of what looked to be black combat boots. He smiled, holding them out to Keith.

“This was not your ideal introductory foe, I know, Momentous is not very happy about it either, but you are of Voltron now. One of the Cadre. Your team needs your help,” Coran said, pushing the items into Keith’s hands when he didn’t immediately take them. “These shoes might help you a bit, I’m afraid that’s all that is complete from your uniform, but your talisman will also manifest you a weapon if needed. Good luck, Momentous and I shall be watching might anything go wrong.”

With shaky hands, Keith pulled on the jacket, raising the hood. He kicked off his shoes and was unsurprised when the ones Coran gave him were a perfect fit. This was as good as he was going to get, it seemed. That was, unless he could somehow figure out how to get the weapon from his talisman that Coran had mentioned.

He pulled the coin out of his shirt and frowned. “Uh, red talisman thing can I get some sort of weapon to help with this? Preferable something pointy so I can get rid of the vines? Please?” Keith asked it. Honestly, this was ridiculous. He was standing in the middle of an alleyway while people were in danger, when he was expected to be helping Voltron despite his lack of knowledge in pretty much any superhero and prodigy thing, and to top it all off, he was talking to a fucking coin.

There was a flash of bright red light, and in the place of his coin there was now a white broadsword with a red stripe running up the center of the blade and red on the grip. It was unlike any sword that Keith had ever seen before, but he  _ had  _ only asked for something pointy so it’d work.

“Oh. Thanks,” Keith said in surprise. He pulled up his hood and turned back the way he came, chasing after the sounds of this evening’s battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: this was 7k+ with the rest of the scene written (and the end is a fucking doozy it's intense) but this alone is 6.5k so I decided to move the rest to next chapter lol. also sorry if anyone was kinda waiting for this and saw me post like 6 other things before this i'll have you know i have like 15 other wips up to 3k now that will also probably be posted before 13!! jk as the last season approaches i'm getting anxious so even with all the bang pieces and such going i'm going to try to get this story moving a bit so i can stay relevant despite not being popular in the slightest. also sounds basic but i really love she-ra so there will probably eventually be she-ra fics up here too?
> 
> anyway, thank you so so much for reading, have a great day/night/whatever, leave a kudos or comment to make me cry (it could literally be about anything tbh you could just say "hey ly your A/Ns are too long shut the fuck up"), and bye
> 
> catch me on [tumblr](https://adverbialstarlight.tumblr.com) or, since tumblr is on more fire than usual, [twitter](https://twitter.com/adverbialnouns)


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> me: and the prodigy grew vinES  
> my brain: oh my god i should add viNES
> 
> (also ~plot things~ happen)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gasp, it only took like 3 weeks instead of 5 to update?? who is this?? anyway i wanted to get a chapter out before S8 so i aggressively wrote 5k in the past 3 days lol. further proving i'm very capable of writing this faster if i actually applied myself. oh well. anyway, enjoy!
> 
> *unbetaed or edited sorry for the inevitable mistakes

In all the times that Keith had read fantasy books, had watched Sleeping Beauty and other movies where the prince slashed through vines ferociously to save the princess– or, in Keith’s case,  _ everyone _ – he had never realized just how impossible vines were to slice through. Magical sword or not, he found himself gritting his teeth and pouring nearly all his strength into swings.

“Thank you,” a woman cried as he released her son’s ankle.

Keith barely nodded before moving to help the next person, a young man bound to a parking meter by sharp vines creeping up his thigh. “Yeah, no problem. Stay safe.”

It seemed that no matter how many people he freed, there were at least six more people who had gotten embroiled in the vines in the time he spent cutting one. Keith was hit with a new wave of exhaustion when he looked up to see the vines were beginning to spread further down the street. Undoubtedly, the prodigy had some serious control over their abilities.

But that was the point of attack this time, who was Phantom targeting?

The rest of the team was doing their best as well– Meticulous perched on top of a U-Haul truck and using his pistols to shoot at the stems’ bases, causing the rest of the vine to wilt and release the people trapped in; Flare sending bursts of light that severed clusters of vines, and Pigeon weaving a pyramidal drone through gaps in the vines, cutting them as it went. 

As Keith made his way through the crowd, he felt a trickle of emotion in the back of his head, a slew of strong feelings that weren’t his. The anger and frustration, the pride and anxiety, it was not his, Keith knew, not all of it, but as disconcerting as it was he couldn’t let it distract him. It was undoubtedly the rest of Voltron’s emotions, some sort of weird bond that came from all being bound to the same magical artifacts. But if it was supposed to help him or be there for anything other than making him even more nervous, Keith wasn’t sure.

He continued moving.

There was a jolt of fear then that made Keith’s head snap up. It might not have been doing his anxiety any good, but this link was definitely letting him know how his teammates were holding up, something that was somewhat useful in a different way if he thought about it. Something was wrong, something bad was about to happen.

It took almost no time to see what; When Keith looked up from the thicket of branches he was slashing at, Scythe was a few feet in front of him, fighting the very prodigy manifesting the vines. From where he stood Keith was still able to see the eery golden glow of the prodigy’s eyes. A shudder ran through him as he continued hacking, eyes still focused on the fight taking place before him.

Even as Scythe materialized everything that he could from what his teammates could offer, the vines continued to grow, to tighten, to creep further down the street. Keith had to get over there, to do  _ something  _ to help them. Simply chopping away vines was no longer enough. Exactly  _ what  _ Keith would be able to do, he was not sure, but he would worry about that when he got there.

He hacked with even more force at the vine, wincing as the parking meter crumpled. The man who had been stuck there glared, looking up from his phone. “Ah,” he yelped, then narrowed his eyes. “ _ Stop _ , I could’ve dropped my croissant.”

Keith scowled, brushing a small thorn that had come off out of his jeans. God, people were so ungrateful. “Yeah, well, you could’ve been killed by a giant, hyper intelligent weed too, so.”

Not waiting for a reply, he turned and started towards Scythe. The other three had this covered. And from the looks of it, Scythe was not the one winning this fight. Phantom had chosen an extra powerful prodigy this time, only concerning Keith more. A more powerful prodigy meant a more powerful distraction.

Meticulous noticed him then, fired three more shots, and frowned at Keith. “Hey. New guy. Cool sword and nice to see you here, but uh–” He cut himself off, a smirk starting to form on his lips.

“Meticulous,  _ do not say it _ , we have actual, serious things happening right now,” Pidgeon warned.

He ignored them, taking on a ridiculous accent as he made eye contact with Keith. “Why are you running?  _ Why are you running _ ?”

Flare burst into laughter, letting his hits falter for a moment, and Pigeon groaned, but Keith only tilted his head in confusion. What was so funny? Was he missing something here? “What?” he asked.

Meticulous sighed, waving his free hand before firing at another vine. “Wh– You can’t be serious. You know what, nevermind, forget it. But really, what’re you doing?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Keith replied. He continued forward, hacking through vines that tried to wrap themselves around his ankles. At this point, they were just getting obnoxious.

Though it took some effort, Keith finally made his way to the platform on which Scythe was fighting the prodigy. Local bands played here on the weekends, shitty covers of Hotel California and other old rock songs that never sounded quite right. It was a miracle that tonight none of them were playing, more people might’ve gotten hurt.

She didn’t even notice him creep up on them and deliver a swift chop to the ends of the vine stems. The screech that left her lips was chilling, and Keith flinched back as the woman turned towards him in rage.

“Back, get away,” she hissed.

Keith blinked. He’d heard plenty of people under Phantom’s influence speak– hell, that was basically seventy percent of what his entire first encounter with one of them had been– but something was different about this, some sort of emotion behind her voice. Something that was not cold or full of malice.

She sounded scared. Like she didn’t want to hurt him, to hurt anyone and was aware of what she was doing and didn’t like it. It sounded like she was fighting Phantom’s control– and perhaps succeeding a bit.

Keith stumbled as the vines he had chopped grew back, reaching out again. He nearly fell off the stage, definitely on his way to cracking his skull open or at least breaking a wrist, but then there was Pidgeon’s drone pushing him upright again in the AI equivalent of annoyance.

“I get you’re kind of new around here,” Pigeon called as they dodged a vine headed for their wrist, chopping it with a butterfly knife Keith hadn’t even realized they were carrying before focusing on controlling the drone again, “but let’s try to  _ not  _ die on your first escapade, yeah?”

He was barely paying attention to their words when he nodded an apology to Pidgeon, still puzzling over this prodigy. She looked around twenty years old, her face soft and full of fear despite her glowing eyes. As vines tightened and people cried out, her knuckles whitened as she coiled them further, lashing out towards Scythe.

Keith knew that when Phantom used his powers on people, they still had emotions, that they were actual people but being used as puppets. Except they usually didn’t remember much, if anything at all. He had seen the interviews, read the files and the observations stored in the databases at HQ.

All they retained was minuscule details– the fall of a lamp post or the cherry blossom print shoes of a man who they ended up harming– or absolutely nothing. They would come out of it confused, feeling as if they had just woken with a nap and a migraine.

But now, with this woman, Keith was not sure. She seemed conscious of her actions– couldn’t control them, but she was aware of them. Which meant that she was probably going to remember most of it. The destruction, the fear and the chaos, the knowledge that it’d been her doing.

But what did it mean, did more powerful prodigies with larger range have higher resistance to Phantom? Matt would know, or at least have a good hypothesis. Perhaps it had something to do with the talismans–?

_ Later _ , he reminded himself as another vine came swinging for his face. This was not the time for thinking on why Phantom had chosen this prodigy, or why she seemed aware of what she was doing right now. It was the time for thinking of how he could stop her before more damage was done. The rest he could do later.

Scythe launched another small cube towards her, filling the air with thick smoke. Keith coughed, turning his face away. It was something that Flare or Pigeon had created no doubt, something to blind their adversaries and let them escape.

But they weren’t about to retreat, were they? Keith wouldn’t allow it. No matter how rude and ungrateful some people could be, that was no excuse to just leave them. Voltron was weakened, he could feel their exhaustion, but Keith was not known for his rational, sensical reasoning. He was going to fix this, even if the rest of them were unwilling or unable.

He swatted at the smoke and lunged forward again, pulling the collar of his shirt over his mouth. The talisman wouldn't let him die from smoke inhalation, hopefully.

Finally he could spot the prodigy again, her eyes cutting through the smoke and giving the air around them a faint amber glow. Neither moved for a moment, the air tense, then she shot out a new branch of vines, this time aimed at Keith's neck.

He barely had time to duck and he felt a quick scrape against his hand. Blindly, Keith lashed out with his sword. His grip tightened when he felt it make contact with another thicket. Once detached, they would stop growing, would release people. But standing this close, six more separate vines were reaching for him– for more fatal body parts and at a quicker pace.

“You're too late,” the prodigy hissed as she smirked, wrapping a vine around his right wrist and squeezing. Keith grimaced, tossing the sword into his left hand and swinging again.

It was hard, with how much she and the vines were moving, his view skewed by the still present smoke. It'd be easy to wound her, to accidentally hit a limb. But at this point what else could he do? The exhaustion of the entire day was pressing heavy, adrenaline was sleeping from his bones.

Her powers seemed endless, but Keith was tired. Perhaps Voltron had been right to retreat. Unless he could find a weak spot, Keith was probably going to die.

He was hardly startled by the thought. It was just a fact at this point, he was just being stupid again. Talisman or not, he was still a Bereft with nothing to offer Voltron. Just a stupid teenager trying to fight insanely powerful prodigies with no powers himself.

He chopped mechanically at the vines, now wrapping around his legs, his right arm, his waist, tightening as Keith attempted to cut them. Reflexes dulled, he missed her next attack, and the next moment both hands were pinned to his sides while a new vine was snaking its way around his neck once again.

“I don't wish to kill you,” the prodigy said in a strained voice, and Keith actually believed her. “But I fear that I must if you continue. Your friends have given up, you should as well. They won't come and save you, number five.”

Keith knew she was right. Why would they? So what if he could feel their fear right now, their defeat and exhaustion mixing in with his own? He was nothing to them, nothing but one talisman wasted and an extra unnecessary addition to their team. But still, he was stubborn and would not let her be right– would not let Phantom be right.

He was about to reply when an arrow shot through the air, sinking into the prodigy's hand. The hand from which the vines holding Keith were sprouting.

A new scream left her lips and the vines holding Keith wilted. He realized now how much his wrists ached.

He squinted through the smoke to see Meticulous sat atop a streetlight twenty feet away, cheering when he saw that he hit his mark. Keith gaped, but when Meticulous noticed his stare, the superhero only winked.

It was all so sudden, he didn’t even have a chance to question what Meticulous meant when he shouted  _ I’m a bad bitch you can’t kill me _ , because Scythe appeared then, catching the prodigy's hands behind her back. Flare stepped up and pulled out the same golden cord Keith had seen the first time they'd met. As he went to tie the prodigy's hands, she stopped struggling to give Keith a snarling grin. He froze.

“It's too late, I've told you already. You have  _ failed _ ,” she hissed. Keith didn't move as Flare secured the rope and she sagged into unconsciousness.

For a long moment, the group was silent, taking in the aftermath of the battle. Debris littered the street and people cried out as the vines trapping them wilted. A few blocks away, Keith could hear police sirens drawing near. The air was still thick with smoke, but Keith could see that the destruction went down for several blocks.

No one looked severely injured, only shaken, and there was no sign of Phantom or his own group of prodigies. Though they hadn’t shown up in quite a few fights so he shouldn’t have been surprised. They were probably off doing something else while Voltron was here, distracted.

_ It was a distraction _ , Keith thought again. His eyes widened and he looked around frantically again. Perhaps he was wrong, maybe this was just another usual attack but...

“Pigeon,” Scythe said, breaking Keith from his thoughts. “Where'd they go?”

And then he knew. That's why Phantom had sent a prodigy of this scale. Keith swore, he should've seen it. “Of course,” he muttered. “Should've seen it coming.”

“What?” Meticulous asked, brows furrowed in concern as he looked around for his teammate. “What're you guys talking about? Why are you looking like that, new guy?”

Keith looked up, eyes meeting Meticulous’ blue ones. “It was a distraction. Phantom– that prodigy was to distract you from his real motives here. To take another prodigy.”

“Pigeon,” Meticulous realized, eyes wide. A moment later, they narrowed. “I'm going to kill that scumbag. We need to look for them, we need to find Momentous or–”

“Right now,” Scythe interjected, “we've got to wait for the police. You know how much they hate when we just leave these things, we need to give an account.”

“But–”

“Right after, Meticulous. Right after. It's not easy on any of this, God knows what he's going to do to them, but we've got to take care of this first. Maybe they just got away, we don’t know anything yet.”

The look Scythe gave him was enough for Meticulous not to protest, but he still looked panicked as they turned towards the approaching police officers. From the corner of his eye, Keith could see Flare’s hands shaking as he rewound the rope. Keith was not fooled by Scythe’s cool, composed act. His jaw was clenched too tight, hands in fists so tight that it could only to keep himself from falling apart as well. If Meticulous didn’t see how much Pigeon’s disappearance was affecting him too, he was blind.

As Scythe briefed the cops, Keith stood awkwardly next to Flare as the other helped civilians up, reassuring them it was safe now. Keith had never stuck around for these things, he’d always figured they just told the cops what happened and left, that they’d go find the people they’d been with and cover their disappearance with some lame excuse. He’d never realized that they also stayed to talk to the people affected, to make sure they were alright and didn’t need anything else. Especially after Pigeon’s kidnapping they probably wanted to just go home and rest, but still they stayed.

Meticulous gave a woman sitting on the curb with streaked black eye makeup a bottle of water, muttering something to her. The woman laughed and the superhero grinned before moving on to the next 

Keith felt a jolt of shame as he realized, perhaps he had been too harsh on Voltron. They were really trying their best. And he was one of them now so he had to help too. Awkwardly, he moved out from behind Flare and wandered a bit away, watching the people carefully.

Eventually, he stopped in front of croissant guy, who had put down his phone to take a large gulp of water that had undoubtedly been given to him by Meticulous. With a jolt of surprise, Keith realized now that he recognized him. They hadn’t seen each other since middle school, and still Keith knew with certainty that it was James Griffin.

He had a feeling that seeing people he knew from his mundane life while doing Voltron things would never cease to fill him with anxiety. He had his hood on, yes, so James didn’t know that it was him, and still Keith felt his chest fill with panic as their eyes met.

“Are you uh, you alright? Sorry that you had to get caught in this… sir,” Keith said awkwardly, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt.

James nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry for kinda being an ass earlier, I think I just sort of panicked. So thanks, uh…”

Suddenly Flare was beside Keith, cutting off his answer as he threw an arm over his shoulders. Keith tried not to yelp in surprise as the superhero grinned at James and proudly announced, “The newest Cadre member. This is Temerity. He was meant to officially debut later this week but then this whole thing happened.”

“Oh.” James’ eyes widened and he turned to Keith again sheepishly. “Again, sorry about earlier. I uh, didn’t really realize you were one of them.”

Keith waved the apology off and shrugged. Whatever, at least it wasn’t like he was  _ trying  _ to be a complete ass, people did stupid things when they were scared. Just like Keith had.

Flare guided him back towards Meticulous after bidding James goodbye, stride calm but urgent. Once they were out of hearing range Keith raised an eyebrow. “Temerity?” he asked.

Flare laughed, smiling sadly. “Pigeon and I thought of it. If you don’t want that to be your alias that’s completely fine but he was asking and… nevermind, you can change it if you want. I kind of read through Momentous’ account of how you activated the red talisman and just thought it might be fitting if you weren’t already going to think of your own. And since you don’t seem to really like to show what your power is and instead rely on, like, that cool sword and impulse, so...” He paused, then said a bit more rushed, “Not that a little boldness and impulsiveness is a  _ bad  _ thing, La–Meticulous does it all the time but–”

Keith shook his head. “No, Flare, it’s great. Really. Thanks,” he said quietly.

They reached Meticulous and the two fell into a discussion on injuries and what they were going to do about Pigeon. Keith hung back though, studying Meticulous. Flare was about to call him something else. His real name, perhaps? That would mean that they knew each other outside of Voltron, knew that they were also in Voltron. The thought of letting someone know that, Pidge or Shiro or anyone else, was unfathomable to Keith. As much as he loved them, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to entrust them with something so big– something so dangerous.

And yet, here was Flare and Meticulous, acting as if they knew each other for years and shared every secret. Keith wondered what that would feel like.

He was not necessarily jealous of their friendship, trust always let to some vulnerability too, something that Keith was definitely not comfortable with, but still, he couldn’t help trying to imagine having a friend like that. For years, that had been Shiro and Matt. It was Lance and Hunk. It was Shay and Allura. But Keith was always on his own, not counting Shiro. Except Shiro didn’t count, he was bound by brotherly duty to be there. To have someone who wasn’t obligated to be there, someone that he could feel confident telling anyone… yeah, that’d be nice.

“You know,” Meticulous said suddenly, addressing Keith. “I think Temerity fits you pretty well. You just went out there with no plan and a giant knife, that’s some pretty reckless shit, man.”

He laughed, and Keith shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the ground. While they were fighting, his thoughts had been solely on beating the prodigy, of keeping people safe. But now his anxiety was seeping in again, the feeling that they really  _ did not  _ want him here. He was the stupid untrained new guy, trying to rob the spotlight and act like he was better than the rest of them.

“Not that it’s a bad thing,” Flare reminded him again. “Don’t listen to Meticulous. He’s just jealous because on his first mission he ended up covered in whipped cream and in a dumpster.”

“ _ Flare, we do not speak of that _ ,” Meticulous hissed to his friend. “Besides, it’s not like you ended up the same but with chocolate sauce.”

Flare nodded solemnly. “True. For being a little old lady who just bakes cupcakes for a living, that lady was vicious.”

Keith didn’t let himself laugh. He wanted to know more, but he was in no place to do so. He was intruding on a private moment of nostalgia between Meticulous and Flare. Quietly, he shifted backwards, distancing himself from the two. Perhaps he could just hover by Scythe, or even find James and try to strike up conversation again.

But when he glanced over again, he saw that the prodigy with the vines had regained consciousness. Even from this distance, he could see the tear tracks on her face as she took in the scene before her. Her hands were cuffed behind her back and was sat in front of the police car, her blonde hair dirtied with small leaves sticking from it as if she had just wrestled with Bigfoot. With her eyes restored to their original state, she looked only a year or two older than him. Young, not murderous.

The police and Scythe didn’t seem to notice despite their frequent gesturing towards her, and from the girl’s paling face, it was not anything pleasant. Before he realized what he was doing, Keith was walking over to her, squatting to sit next to her.

They said nothing for a long moment before finally he glanced at her and muttered, “Uh, hi.”

“Hi.”

Silence again.

_ Come on, Keith _ , he scolded himself,  _ at least  _ try  _ to keep a conversation for once without deciding to up and leave. _ He took another deep breath and tried again. “Uh, what’s your name?”

The prodigy glared at him. “Look in the file, I’ve already told you.”

Keith winced. Alright, he  _ probably  _ should’ve seen that coming. “Uh sorry. I’m not trying to– I’m Ke–Temerity. You don’t have to tell me your name if you don’t want to, I just… wanted to see if you were alright? Could’ve just been a stupid assumption, but I feel like you might’ve still–”

“I remember all of it,” she interrupted quietly. Her eyes were heavy with remorse as she fiddled with the torn hem of her dress, staring into the gravel. “Phantom, he made me keep it all. What I did to all those people. The only thing not there is what happened to your friend, Pigeon. I took them somewhere I’m sure of it,” she winced, glancing nervously at Keith then back down, “but where, I don’t know. I am deeply sorry for everything I’ve done today.”

He scoffed, causing the prodigy to look up in surprise. “None of this is your fault,” Keith stated firmly. “It was Phantom’s doing, he was the one who did all of that.”

“No, you don’t understand, I tried to fight it, I could’ve gotten rid of it but I let him–”

“ _ No. _ He used you like a fucking puppet, you couldn’t have done anything. They won’t hold it against you, he practically possessed you,” Keith argued. “You may not believe me, but this was not your doing. If you had full control, would you have done it?”

She shook her head immediately. “Well, no, but–”   
  


“Then that’s that. You’re obviously not a bad person. Once all this,” he gestured to the police, to Flare and Meticulous watching them a few feet away with matching looks of surprise, “is over you get to go home. Make yourself tea or something. You’ll have to live with the memory of all that happening, yeah, but just remember it wasn’t you. Go back to using your powers for growing squash or something, let it blow over. We  _ will  _ find Phantom and bring him to justice. Just don’t let it hurt you too much, yeah?”

Keith wasn’t sure what he expected at the end of his ramble, but it was definitely not for the girl to lunge forward and shake his hand vigorously, fresh tears rimming her eyes. “That’s… thank you very much. I am Romelle, it is a great honor to meet you.”

He froze in place, unsure what to do. What  _ was  _ one supposed to do when the person who just trying to kill them was now practically groveling at their feet, saying shit like  _ it is a great honor to meet you _ ? And in a British accent, no less. Honestly though, Keith shouldn’t have been surprised. Of course this was happening.

Awkwardly, he nodded, patting Romelle’s shoulder. “Uh, thanks. It’s nice to meet you too, I guess.”

She said nothing but pulled back, much to Keith’s relief, and the two remained sitting for another long minute or two in silence. Scythe’s conversation with the police officers ended and the two officers broke off into their own conversation, one of them radioing the station that they would be bringing Romelle in for questioning soon.

Keith could feel her shoulders tense. Usually Keith was knocked unconscious or had left by the time  _ this  _ stage of a Voltron battle came around, and he had never quite realized the terror and anxiety that followed for the prodigies Phantom used. How the police regarded them warily, like a dangerous animal that might strike at any moment. The confusion and guilt that came after their powers had been exhausted. He let Romelle lean against his arm despite the nasty bruise beginning to form there, watching as the cops paced further away.

Scythe turned to him and Romelle then, eyebrows raising in surprise. He covered it quickly though after shooting Keith a look and gave Romelle a warm smile. “Hi, I’m Scythe,” he introduced himself. “I see you’ve met my comrade, Temerity already.”

Before he could stop himself, Keith snorted. “This is a group of vigilantes, not the fucking Soviet Union,” he muttered under his breath. Somehow– probably the black talisman– Scythe heard and shot him a look, though it was more amused than scolding.

Romelle glanced at him, head tilting to the side. “What?”

“Nothing.”

Scythe cleared his throat. “Anyway, as I was saying. I hope you are doing alright. The police will be taking you to the station to get a statement but that shouldn’t take too much of your time. You aren’t in trouble or anything, they just want to see if you know anything that happened.”

Romelle nodded but sat up quickly. “I’ve– I remember it all. I was not in control but… Phantom did not take my mind, only seized control of my body. Everything that happened, I can still recollect it. And I am deeply sorry for the trouble I have caused for you and everyone else this evening.”

“I know Temerity has probably told you this but really, it wasn’t your fault. None of it. I’m sorry that this happened to you, I hope you are able to recover from this alright. If you ever need us, please do not hesitate to reach out, you can get to Momentous through the police station,” Scythe said.

She nodded as the police officers came back around the car. Silently Keith stood, helping Romelle up as well. “Thank you all very much. I hope your evening is restful,” she said again, smiling faintly.

Keith and Scythe stood to the side, watching as she stepped into the back of the car and practically collapsed into the seat as the door slammed shut. A moment later the tail lights lit up and the car was speeding off into the night, leaving only a few other officers and Voltron.

“She wasn’t as affected by Phantom,” Keith said the moment the police car was out of sight. “There was something different about it, she tried to– warn me? It might have something to do with the extent of her power or something, Momentous probably knows, but it was  _ not  _ normal.”

There was so much more he wanted to ask– the weird emphatic link that was now closed, how the sword manifested, what they might’ve taken Pigeon for beyond just shaking Voltron. Instead, he said nothing.

Scythe nodded. “Yeah, I think the others noticed that too. There’s definitely something going on there.”

Flare and Meticulous walked up to them, solemn. Scythe turned to the three of them then, nodding again, as if to reassure himself. “I think the cops have got it from here. Let’s get out of here, Momentous wants us back at HQ if it isn’t too much of a trouble for you though. We’ve got to figure out our next move as soon as possible.”  _ Before we’re too late _ , he didn’t say, but Keith knew. They all knew.

The group fell into the long shadows, beginning their walk back to HQ in a heavy silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh god, it's here. s8 is upon us, TOMORROW. guess who's waking up at 2 am for it?? no matter what happens though i want yall to know i'm sappy and so grateful for everyone who's ever given this trainwreck a chance and for making this an actually pretty amazing fandom to be in. i'm going to be writing klance and vld for a long time still but if you end up drifting i still appreciate you very much. i'm still terrified because i get super attached to things like this but at least my fellow forever people get to know that i'm not going anywhere. there's so many things in the works dude.
> 
> anyway i hope this was an ok chapter sorry my exhausted ass made james into stop i coulda dropped my croissant, fun fact matt was going to be the one to get kidnapped but i was like nO WHAT IF ITS PIDGE bc drama. until next time i procrastinate writing something else, have a great day/night/whatever, leave a comment or kudos or just read this to make me cry and bye
> 
> come scream over cassandra clare books (bc qoaad and i met her on saturday and got to spill my love for magnus bane as a queer southeast asian human), voltron, and other cartoons/books/emo music with me on [tumblr](https://adverbialstarlight.tumblr.com) and/or [twitter](https://twitter.com/adverbialnouns)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :D  
> [sometimes used tumblr](http://adverbialstarlight.tumblr.com)  
> [my insp playlist for this fic bc fuck username shame](https://open.spotify.com/user/unoriginallylg/playlist/0Vz6ABkMz5eOUIeYbXxfY8?si=sEmAMQdHTSmdIbNfpk81hA)


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